Breaking the Boundary
by eminakashima
Summary: Love is found in unlikely people, and nobody knows that there's inevitable death lurking around the corner. Nalu. Jerza. Gajevy. Gruvia. [TITANIC AU]
1. The Declaration

The waiting area for a single platform was crowded, and within the sea of so many people, Lucy began to feel lightheaded and claustrophobic. The beautiful sight of the _Titanic_ peered down on her, and she was a definite beauty, but what awaited Lucy after the trip wasn't quite so pleasant. Maybe if she breathed in enough sea air and went crazy, she wouldn't have to stay in America.

With her mother tugging gently on her hand, she was pulled into the line for one of the first class boarding platforms. The people around her were so elegant, so refined, but yet, they treated the ship like something worth much more than they were… But it wasn't. It was amazing in any right, with a size like no other. It was hard to believe that this ship's length was almost the height of the Eiffel Tower.

Lucy could still remember the days that she had spent in Paris. It had been her first and only trip in her lifetime, and her mother tried to soothe her as she complained that she wanted more experiences in the world, saying, "Lucy, traveling can take a toll on young ladies, so we must be treated gently," but that wasn't the case. Lucy's father was far too busy with himself to be concerned with traveling with the wife and daughter that he had to care for.

He wasn't a completely selfish man, but he was one to do things for the money. It was the exact reason Lucy was even boarding the _Titanic_ in the first place. If anything, Jude Heartfilia would have gone by himself.

As she stood beside her mother in line, a butler carrying a parasol over her and her mother's heads, Lucy searched the crowd, desperate for anything interesting. People frantically tried to figure out where their luggage belonged, cars struggled to get through the humans, but what seemed to catch Lucy's eye the most was the areas for the lower classes on the ship.

Second class was nearby, not too distant. The people in line seemed almost so average, treated like normal, everyday people. In the line for first, the people were treated more like gods; dainty and overpowering to all. In the far off distance, Lucy could spot the poorest group, and they were treated like animals with diseases, which was somewhat sickening.

She wasn't ill-willed; The sight of the people didn't disturb her. What was the worst thing was the way that they were being treated. Already, they suffered, yet people dared to look down on them even more, yet it seemed like they tried the hardest? It was a sad sight.

Before her mother could gesture for her to move forward again, Lucy excused herself, too caught up in a single sight. Layla lost sight of her daughter's blonde head in the crowd, and looked worriedly at the butler. He apologized for letting her go, but Layla could only accept the apology and say that her daughter was a brave heart.

"Levy! I can't believe that you're here!" Lucy called, hugging her friend as they met one another's gazes.

The smaller girl hugged back with a gentle embrace. "Lu, I forgot to tell you that I was getting on the _Titanic_! My father asked me to get him some books from America, so I thought I would take the most interesting passage there," she said with enthusiasm. Pulling out of the hug, she looked to the ship. "She's amazing, right?"

Lucy smiled. There was nothing more comforting than knowing that her childhood friend would be aboard the ship as well. Looking up to the supermassive floating structure, Lucy couldn't help but agree. "I can't even imagine what the inside looks like."

As Levy dazed off dreamily, Lucy snapped her out of her daze. "Levy, you're riding second class?" Lucy asked, staring at the ticket in her hand. Her little friend nodded, looking at the blonde with questioning eyes.

"Yes, why?"

"I could have bought you a ticket for first, if you had brought this up to me! I want you to be the most comfortable on the ship!"

Smiling at her friend's hot-headedness, she nodded. "Maybe that's why I didn't bring it up," she said with a smile. "I wanted to see if I could get myself across the Atlantic Ocean without pestering you."

Levy McGarden was a braver soul, riding a ship by herself, paying the fares alone, and it was all in quest of a few books to expand one of the best libraries in England. Lucy took her friend's hand, promising, "We'll spend time together on the ship," and bid her farewell, searching for the line her mother and father were waiting in.

From the distance, as she approached, Lucy could see her father's dark scowl and sullen eyes. Lucy apologized for running off, telling her mother that Levy would be on the trip as well. As the topic of the blue-haired girl sparked up, Layla dared to mention, "Did you tell her about your 'arrangement' in America?"

Every drop of excitement and happiness drained from Lucy's body in an instant. She hoped that her mother wouldn't dare to mention the man she was supposed to marry, and for a whole week, she hadn't. Her father had been too busy to even mention the foreign man, but Lucy could have assumed her fiancé was on her parents' minds just as much or more than they thought about their own daughter.

Passing through the entrance to the ship, Lucy rebuttled, "Of course, I didn't! I'm not going to tell her, because I'm not marrying some man for you to get richer!"

Her shouting was too lost in the fascination and awe of the surrounding people for others to notice the argument at hand. Layla turned to Lucy with sad eyes, which struck her heart with pain for a second, but Lucy couldn't bring herself to feel sorry, for she wanted to marry someone she loved.

Before Layla could say anything sympathetic to Lucy, Jude interjected. "What, do you think that you'll find some love on this ship? That true love is waiting to knock on your door before you knock on your fiancé's door? I think not, Lucy. Accept that you're marrying that man!" he demanded, and Lucy pulled back, a single tear in each of her eyes.

"All I want… All I want to do is marry a man I love, become an author, and be happy…" she struggled to say as she choked up.

"You are _not _Lucky Lucy anymore, and you _will not_ find love on this ship. Even if you did, you wouldn't marry him. This is the end of the conversation!" Jude boomed, remaining in the middle of the hallway. Lucy struggled to breathe in without sobbing as she held her father's gaze, and she nodded in defeat.

Stepping around her father and mother, Lucy walked off, hoping that she could make it to the deck before the railings were too crowded. Finding a single open spot, she peered down on the people below her. They waved and shouted to their comrades, and only now, above them all, Lucy could tell that they were all bidding their final goodbyes to the people aboard the ship.

Seeing Levy in the crowd, finally getting onto the platforms to board, Lucy smiled. She still had someone to look forward to seeing on the ship, and she would do whatever it took to get to see Levy. If anything, some nights, she would be dining without her parents, so she could as her friend to join her.

Each time Lucy saw her, Levy had another tale to tell, speaking about it as though she had lived every moment of it. She'd read so many books, and her avid memory kept the stories in her thoughts in vivid detail. If Lucy didn't have access to someone to tell her real stories that they had done, Levy's books would suffice. She loved them just as much.

Nearby, she could hear people asking others about what they thought of the _Titanic_. From what she heard, all the replies were positive, other people bringing Thomas Andrews into the conversation, saying the man had created a masterpiece. As for Lucy herself, she could admit that the halls she had already walked through were all more beautiful than her own home, decorated more elegantly than any other ship. The vessel was far too big for her to even feel the waves of the ocean, and being on the _Titanic _made her feel amazingly small.

However, deep in her mind, the thoughts on her fiancé begun to stir, rising up to the surface of her thoughts. Her father's words continued to echo, and she knew that she didn't have a choice but to marry him. There was nothing that she could do to prevent such an event. What saddened her most was that she had never even met him, only knew his first name as Evan, and he was a stern and boring banker from the US.

She'd heard stories about him from her father. He had picked him, so it was obvious that the marriage was nothing more for money and human creation. Lucy doubted that she could even let the man near her. He was a boring inner city banker from Chicago who had never been outside of the state, worked hard daily, and had never dated a single woman. Lucy hadn't even heard a tale of him getting drunk or in trouble or even if he had gone to a party, and there was nothing that signaled the man enjoyed having his own sort of fun.

What awaited her was a boring and dull life, like the rest of it. The _Titanic_ would be her first and last amazing experience, and she would die an old and boring woman. She seeked thrill and adventure, and wanted to write a novel based on all of her experiences. Being amazing was a woman's taboo, which was something that Lucy couldn't handle. She wanted to be someone more than a girl that got married and could only procreate.

Of course, her idea of "amazing" wasn't much, but thanks to Levy, she had a zealous interest in reading and writing, and she desired to publish her own novel, like her friend's father. Levy's begetter was an amazing author, occasionally editing Lucy's short stories, and had become renowned for his amazing books and unrivaled talent and creativity.

She would do anything to change her parents' minds. Her mother would be an easy sway, and Layla could easily make Jude drunk in love and convince him that Lucy could be an independent soul… or so Lucy thought. It wasn't going to be an easy task, and in the end, if she failed to convince them, she had two options: run away or marry the bloke.


	2. Arrival and Departure

The strong scent of salt tinged in the air as Erza found her way across the deck to an open spot. She wasn't sure why she was bothering to go up to the deck, being that there was no one waiting down on the platform for her, to say farewell. She peered down, not on the people, but on England, bidding farewell to her home, hoping to be returning in the nearest possible future.

She wasn't much interested in the "wealth" in America. It was all fake and nothing more than a figment of hope and imagination. She'd heard about the troubling taxes and extreme crime rate. What she sought out in America was an adventure for her employees and information on fashion in other countries. She needed to expand herself, and this was the perfect opportunity for a good experience and new knowledge.

Turning to her companion and butler, he smiled down at her while holding the black and red parasol above her head. The day was growing humid, but it was possibly just the crowd of people all in one place. Hundreds of faces all blurred into one another, waving and shouting, smiling and crying. A loud whistle of the smokestack screamed over all of the commotion, and it marked the journey was about to begin.

"Is there anything in particular that you're looking forward to, Miss Scarlet?" Jellal asked, fixing the parasol to the source of sun.

She nodded, but shot a familiar soothing look at him. "Of course, I'm looking forward to some things. The Statue of Liberty, for example." She gestured her hand, smiling. "But what did I tell you? It's just Erza. Don't act like you're not a friend of mine," she teased.

Jellal was slightly soothed by how familiar he was with her, and vice versa. He'd been so close to her, but being that he was no longer just a household friend, but more of her butler, he felt the need to call her as something more than just _Erza_.

Several shouts and orders from crewmembers came, and with that, the ship begun to move. Most passengers aboard had been waiting for more than an hour for the ship to begin moving, and even more had even already gone to see their room and began to get comfortable.

With a slight feeling of movement on both sides of the two, they looked down to see two children struggling to slip through, hoping to catch a final glimpse of the people and the land. The little boy looked up to Erza and Jellal, apologizing. Erza shifted herself to allow the children to fit in front of her, and she continued to look out to the harbor.

As the vessel continued to float through the commotion of smaller ships that bustled around it, a problem arose within a few seconds. The crew was running by, relaying orders. Erza could hear them panicking about the _SS New York_ being somewhere in the front of them, and the two sea vessels nearly colliding. Jellal turned to the employees of the ship as they all did their best to throw the engines in reverse.

Most passengers played naïve to the situation at hand, continuing to bid their farewells. Somewhere amongst the moving and shifting crowd, Erza caught a quick glimpse of one of the Heartfilia women, unsure whether it was the daughter or the wife. She herself had never met them, but she had supplied them some of her best fashion pieces and had heard quite the bit about their family.

As the collision continued to be a panic, Jellal hurriedly began to trail behind her as Erza moved to go and find the front of the ship. She wanted to see the problem herself, having Jellal follow behind like a lost pup. He struggled to keep behind her and keep the sun umbrella above her head, keeping her hidden from the sun's rays.

There was a bit of sunlight that streaked across her, and Jellal couldn't help but find himself in awe of her pale skin and brilliant scarlet hair. As Erza turned to check on her pantryman, he quickly wiped the look of reverence and veneration off of his face. She smiled, seeing the remaining marks of the smile that was there when she wasn't looking.

Resuming her quick-paced walk as she sought out the bow of the ship, Erza struggled to peek over the shoulders of people. Feeling the ship beneath her begin to slow and come to a somewhat halt, she could see the struggling smaller ship pull away from the potential crash. Within a few minutes, the _Titanic _was able to keep moving once more.

"I wonder if Captain Smith will be ordering the ship to go faster, being that we're a few minutes behind now," Erza contemplated aloud, turning to Jellal. "This is a big voyage for him, after all."

Taking in her idea, the light feeling of air came with the movement of the ship. For several hours, they would be going without any sight of land, and already, the distraught feeling of seasickness began to take its toll on the butler. He inhaled deeply, hoping that he would soon adapt to the feeling of being on the vessel.

Offering the idea of tea, Jellal weak-heartedly took it up from Erza. He didn't want to pester Erza and take up so many offers from her. He wasn't supposed to be treated like an upperclassman-he was a servant and was born poor. There was nothing special about him, and every death he paid witness to was a bit of his fault.

Catching hold of Jellal's hand with her own gloved one, Erza reassured him. "Don't pester yourself with troubling thoughts. Enjoy the trip, and I'll send a tray of tea back to the suite for the others to enjoy. As for you, Jellal," she said with a pause, "you need to enjoy this trip and don't worry."

Finding their way into a nearby lounge to be given a tray with a teapot and small cups, Erza quietly requested that a tray of the same order be sent down to her room. She asked the waiter to place a small card on it, and she sent him off with a gentle smile. The first class passengers that had already gathered in the lounge were all enjoying their own afternoon cups of tea. There was a slight difference between Erza and the others, however. The Scarlet woman had her servant join her for a cup, while the others had the butler stand beside their seat or remain in the room.

"You'll embarrass yourself with me, Erza," he said, blushing at the sound of her name leaving his mouth. She didn't meet his gaze, closing her eyes calmly as she drank her cup of tea.

As she lowered the china to the smaller plate in her lap, she asked with a fierce and confident tone, "I should care, why? I do as I please, and I will run the Scarlet household as I desire to. If I want to have my butler join me for a cup, then I will do as I want." She took another sip, refusing to meet eyes with him.

With the lingering silence from Jellal, he refused to lift the cup anymore. Erza finally took a moment to turn her brown eyes towards him, and added, "Don't be afraid. The watchful eyes from anyone else shouldn't matter."

Hearing those words were comforting and seemed to flood him with warmth. There was no way he could refuse anything that involved Erza, and if he did, some incompetent lie would slip from his lips as a way to save himself from hurting her anymore. She was brave and capable and strong, and Jellal couldn't think of a stronger woman than her. What was destroying him inside was his own failures and every possible one that he could make, and the things that he wanted to do could destroy the image that Erza had worked so hard for.

"Jellal," Erza said quietly, looking at him with soft eyes. This was a look that she could only give to him. For some reason, after the countless years that they had spent together, he was the only one that she had come to be able to show her weak side to. He accepted it, and still continued to see her a strong woman, and after the many years of torture that Jellal had been through, she wanted to be his savior.

Looking up from his reflection in the tea, he replied with an even fainter voice, "Yes?"

"Be strong for me," she said, standing up. She set her empty cup down, dusted her skirt a bit, and ran her hand across his cheek. "It'll be okay, and with me, you don't have to worry about watchful eyes."

Finishing off the remainder of his tea, Jellal rose to his feet to follow Erza. She mentioned taking a stroll on the open promenade deck, and she looped her arm in his. Finding comfort in his body heat, they synchronized their paces. Jellal opened the parasol once more, holding it above their head. They could have easily looked like one of the honeymooning couples on the ship, but they weren't. He was her butler, and she was his master.

Peering down at his watch, Gray couldn't help but find himself impatient, waiting for the _Titanic. _Somewhere in the crowd outside of the bar, Loke was lost in the arms of some girl, desperate French words slurring out of her mouth. Gray wasn't going to make do with gambling away the money he had left for America for the hours that he had to wait, and there was nothing more to do than for him to take up the offer for a cigar from another man in the bar, and pay for the cheapest bottle of alcohol that he could find on the menu.

Glancing at the clock, he noted that it was already six in the afternoon, and the _Titanic_ was scheduled to arrive anytime soon, and topping off the beer and tapping the ashes of the cigar into a nearby tray, he stepped out of the bar, thanking the man who had offered him the smoke. Tipping his hat and shouting, "_Bon voyage,_" after Gray, he stepped out of the building in attempt to find a decent place to board third class.

According to his agreement with Loke, they would meet by the boarding area. As minutes begun to slowly pass and the ship was nowhere in sight, Gray thought to himself, _Some hell of a fancy ship, running late._ Tapping his foot impatiently and shoving the only expensive piece he owned back into his pocket, he continued to play with the chain of the pocketwatch. The ship was late, and his comrade was as well.

It didn't take long for the ship to arrive, and Loke wasn't anywhere in sight. Growing even more agitated and impatient, Gray proceeded to go through the terrible boarding process of third class passengers. The crew scowled down on him, like they were any better, and as he was checked for lice and diseases, he was poked and prodded, checked and examined. When he passed their lice tests, they looked doubtful, as though they had done a bad job. As someone who was previously wealthy, he knew how to maintain himself.

Climbing up the boarding docks and trailing behind a woman with a large family, Gray continued to pull the pocketwatch out of his pocket and check the time. He sneaked the peeks at it, trying to avoid any commotion and people claiming that he had stolen his treasured object from someone rich. Before slipping into the door of the ship, he looked down to the bottom, noting his comrade getting his ginger hair checked.

The two comrades exchanged looks from the distance, Gray shook his head in disapproval, and he continued to find the room that his ticket said to go to. He struggled to find his way, and he noted that the third class women and men were separated; women in the front, men in the back. It wasn't more for sexism, but more of preventing the men-such as Loke-from harassing the women. He was only forced into knowing this information as Gray found himself walking down the wrong staircases and he couldn't find a single member of the crew that wasn't busy with helping others.

As he found himself in the right hallway, there were hundreds of different voices, languages, and accents, and he could definitely tell that he was in the steerage with hundreds of immigrants and poor men. In no way could he feel superior to them, being that now, he was one of them.

Reading the numbers on the rooms, he found himself in an empty one. Loke hadn't yet found his way, and taking advantage of the somewhat solitude and ignoring the loudness of outside, Gray settled in, placing his duffel beneath the bunk, and he settled himself on the bottom, undoing his cheap boots and removing his coat for the first time in the day.

He had been waiting since the early morning, and the suspense had been killing him. Gray wasn't really sure if he had much to look forward to on the ship, being that third class wasn't given much luxuries. The adrenaline pounding in his heart was the suspense of America.

Eventually, Loke arrived in the room, complaining aloud about the separation of sexes. He slipped his bag next to Gray's, thanked his comrade for giving him the top bunk, and the two completed settling in. All too soon, the smokestack screamed the departure from France.

The two had no plans for showing up on deck to wave goodbye. There was nothing and no one that they wanted to see, and all that they had to look forward to was the expected sight of the Statue of Liberty and America.


	3. The Inordinate Prevarication

The first night of the _Titanic's_ voyage was a smooth sail. Levy stared out at the black abyss, lost in awe at the sight of the pure blackness. It was nearly impossible to separate the ocean, the horizon line, and the sky, and the only colors that decorated the ocean were the lights of the ship and the moon, which were both reflected in the waves.

Prying herself away from the railing for the first time since dinner had ended, Levy could hear the weak sound of music. She contemplated whether or not she should look for the source, but she had never heard such pleasant sounds anywhere in England. It could have been because she never had excess cash to see any orchestras and was always too busy to spend her time in leisure, so sitting in places with live music wasn't an option.

Therefore, the vinyl sound of recorded music was her only source of tunes. Her father had rummaged up some cash for a phonograph to make their home more lively, and it had worked. Finally receiving a chance to hear live music, the little blue-haired girl sought out the melodies that came from a nearby lounge.

She had heard that the band would be moving around, and second class was getting a chance to hear some tunes from America, but in the early day, Levy had been too caught up in the rest of the ship to give it much of a care. Finally, she entered the lounge that the passengers had gathered to view the people who played different instruments.

The sounds were stronger, each member kept in time with one another. Sitting on the side, impatiently tapping his foot, was the American musician that Levy had overheard other passengers gossiping about. She had even heard some rumors about him being a thug, but his finely suited body and his long locks neatly pulled together by a string said otherwise. He held a brass instrument that Levy had never paid witness to in her entire life, and it reflected the lights of the room beautifully.

A glint of it's gold color shone in her eye, and Levy found herself immediately drawn to sit in a chair that was as close as possible to the performers. Refusing to take her eyes off of the American man, he was horrifying to look at, but he looked proud and strong, confident and brave. It was overwhelming, and even more so, stunning. He barely could be seen as a passenger of the ship, thought to be refined, or suited to be an employee, but it was that single man she found herself more fascinated with.

Before the crimson-eyed man could see her staring at him, Levy looked away, turning her focus to the finely suited men playing classical instruments in front of her. Occasionally, she peeked a glance at the stranger, still curious about his slightly villainous aura.

The American musician glared forward, his scowl seemingly plastered to his face. He didn't pay much notice to the people who seemed to be eagerly awaiting his foreign performance, but he was more caught up in the sound of the music that he had never paid much attention to. Classical music wasn't very popular in America, and having to travel with a bunch of men that acted like it was their life was a new experience to him. After hearing it the whole day, he yawned, masking his mouth with his gloved hand.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted the pint-sized girl who continued to look at him with eager eyes. Each time he turned to her with a look of interest, she turned away, casually returning to look at the musicians. He could tell that she was planning on approaching him as soon as the performances were over for the night, and he couldn't imagine the kinds of questions she had in store.

Watching her subconsciously fiddle with the pages of the book in her lap, he wondered if she was some sort of student. Laughing to himself, scoffing a bit, he doubted the idea. Women didn't have much opportunities in America, and one of the few opportunities was _definitely not_ academic.

Catching the sound of the other musicians' final note, he stood up to prep himself. Taking a final look at the small girl, he swapped places with the other men. He wasn't much interested in pleasing a handful of European people, being that was what he had spent his last month doing in concert. Pulling a stool up behind him with his foot, the American man sat down and settled his body to begin to play.

His position was interesting, new, and casual compared to the other musicians. Levy mused herself, leaning forward with interest. The sound was a bit harsh at first, completely different. The other passengers seemed shocked and lost in the new genre of music.

In comparison, the American man's presentation was much shorter and seemed to wake the crowd up. Levy could imagine the music being played in a festive party, couples dancing together. By the time that his performance was done, Levy had to force the smile of fascination off of her face.

Through several other songs from the other musicians, Levy waited impatiently. By the time she could get up to ask him questions, the crowd around her quickly dispersed, either moving to ask the classical musicians their questions, or even the American man. Refusing to move from her seat until the crowd around the man thinned out, Levy decided to get up.

Approaching him, she grew nervous, watching him laugh with the remainng man and woman that stood in front of him. Standing behind the two, Levy stood proudly, composing herself. She wasn't sure what to ask first, so she would let anything and everything spill out of her mouth.

"Yes?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as the other two people walked away. He watched as the girl approached him, and he smiled a bit, his prediction coming true.

Exhaling quietly, Levy brought herself to ask, "What's your name, sir?"

"Gajeel Redfox," he said with a collected tone. He kept his eyes on the other musicians, his composure rotting by the second. Other passengers still hadn't left, and he could imagine that he was going to have to continue his "act."

Quickly searching her thoughts for another question, Levy asked, "What's that instrument you were playing," she asked, then added, "and what type of music was that?"

Contemplating his answer for a moment, he narrowed his eyes at her. "It's a saxaphone, and it was called jazz." He struggled to hold in the irritation of the whole evening, swallowing his attitude.

Levy perked up, leaning in towards him even more. "Is that type of music exclusively from America? It has a very unique edge to it, you see…" She twirled a strand of her hair with her finger, then hugged her book closer to her chest, hoping to be answered eagerly.

"Maybe? I don't imagine that it's very known in Europe, being my concerts weren't very popular," Gajeel mused, thinking back about the stadium and how it wasn't as full as he had expected it to be.

"Well, Mr. Redfox, your music was extremely impressive, and from what I can assume, your skills are on par with professionals," Levy said with extreme flattery. He seemed humble and his voice was a bit gruff, but hearing him talk about his music was far better than just returning to her room. Looking up to him for his response, she flinched.

"Are you implying that I'm not a professional?"

She didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure, being that she had no one else to compare him to, and she thought that she was implying that his skills were impressive. Gathering what nerves she had, she replied, "Are you sure that you're not just interpreting me wrong? I meant that your skills are amazing, based on what little knowledge that I have."

Tipping his head, he smiled a bit. "My apologies." Looking up, away from Levy, he nodded to the other musicians. "Excuse me, but I have to go."

Watching the American man, Levy felt dumbfounded. She wasn't sure whether the man was a foolhardy gentleman, or if he was just pretending to be friendly and sociable. Dismissing her lonesome self, she continued to think about Mr. Redfox as she returned to her room. If she could, she would ask more questions and she planned to try to become more than just a curious stranger.

He certainly had a way with words with the other passengers, but she found herself wondering about the attitude he had let slip in his last comment. Readying herself for her first night's sleep on the _Titanic, _she knew that there was one more final stop before the vessel's journey would officially be beginning.

* * *

><p>Before noon, the crewmembers were already busy with preparations for dinghies to be pressed against the ship. There was no way that the Titanic would be able to get anywhere near land in Queenstown, and the passengers boarding in Ireland would be coming in from little ships. Levy found herself strolling across an open deck, wondering if she could get to see some of the passengers boarding from the last stop.<p>

Ahead of her, she could spot the American musician, seeing him leaning against the railing. She had heard that the musicians were allowed to travel second class, a privilege, according to some of the wealthier, more snooty passengers.

"Mr. Redfox," Levy called, smiling as she approached him.

Pressing his hands against the railing to stand up straight, he turned to look at the girl who had called his name. Instantly, his look of curiosity fell to a mere scowl. "Oh, it's the pipsqueak."

Narrowing her eyes at him, his intense change of demeanor from the night before was impressive. He had managed to put up a rather good act, and she convinced herself that he was just tired from the day. She was wrong, of course. It seemed as though he was more exhausted from putting up a fairly good act.

"What did you call me?" she snarled, refusing to put up with his attitude. "You're supposed to treat me like a-"

He cut in. "I don't want to put up with your stupid questions, shorty. If you want to learn about music, then wait until you arrive in America," he snapped, looking at her. "I don't have a reason to _act_ nice to you as of now, so it would be best that you stay on my 'nice side' and leave me alone."

Tilting her head to the side, Levy furrowed a brow. "Excuse me? You have a 'nice side' that I have yet to see?"

"You ungrateful little-"

"Mr. Redfox! Are you busy right now?" Interrupted by a voice behind him, Levy peeked around his thick figure. Two of the musicians were approaching him, and they had the kindest, most sincere smiles on their faces. She could already tell that they hadn't seen his true colors.

Smiling at them, Levy presented a perfect curtsy. "Good day, sirs. Your performance last night was wonderful."

One man tipped his hat, smiling at her. "Thank-you, Miss…?"

"Levy McGarden," she replied, extending her hand. He kissed the top of her hand, and she slowly pulled away. Turning to Gajeel, she smiled. "Sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Redfox. I look forward to more conversations."

Turning away from the men, she walked off. Frowning, she could only bring herself to thinkthat she would avoid all further confrontations with Gajeel Redfox.


	4. Enter the Fire

Peering down on the water from her place along the railing, Lucy eagerly awaited the new passengers. She had never heard an Irish accent before, and she found herself curious beyond her own good. Passengers were coming aboard, one by one, and she looked at each and every one of them with intense fire. They were all being divided, based on their tickets and classes, and from her spot, she could see the passengers of each class.

The hustle and bustle of the ship became instantly more active, and other people had joined her, just as eager as Lucy to see the foreigners. She had wandered away from her family for the afternoon, far too stressed out from her father's lecturing. Her mother had done up her hair and dressed her up in a gown that was designed by Erza Scarlet.

Layla had gone on while dressing her about how she had seen fashion designer after dinner, and the two had engaged in conversation. Amazingly, Erza was only a single year older than Lucy, and even more, the blonde found herself growing jealous of the scarlet-haired maiden's life. She was strong, independent, and she could choose the love of her life. Erza was far more successful than any woman that was only 18-years-old should be.

Peering down on the passengers, Lucy looked at each one; men, women, children. It seemed like third class had the most children, being that Lucy had only seen one or two children in first class since she had boarded. Even worse, there were very little people her age, and the one woman that Lucy was eager to talk to-Margaret "Molly" Brown-had been busy the night before, and even her father didn't approve of Lucy speaking to her.

The woman was a feminist, and she believed in equal choice and benefit for men and women. Lucy saw her as a role model, and she was eager to meet her. According to her father, women being equal was a terrible idea and they shouldn't be allowed to make their own choices. Lucy could see the slight distress on her mother's face at the time, but, of course, Layla agreed with her husband.

As Lucy's mind continued to wander, she reminded herself to send a note to Levy's room to invite her to first class for dinner. With the commotion that her friend would cause, Lucy figured that she would have to meet her friend to escort her. She was eager to show her the Grand Staircase, which was an impressive structure inside of the _Titanic_.

Slipping into her own thoughts, Lucy caught herself before she could lose sight of what she was on the open deck for. Looking back down at the boarding passengers, she found herself drawn to look at one passenger who was proving his ticket to a crew member. It felt as though her eyes were drawn to him. He had an impressive appearance, and he looked so different. His hair was a pale rose color, tousled and askew on his head, and he had the biggest, most brilliant eyes she had ever seen.

The crewman who was reading his ticket began to laugh with the stranger, and Lucy assumed that he had made a joke. The new passenger grabbed ahold of his bag, and looked at the ship with curious eyes before he was out of sight. Lucy moved along the railing in hopes to see him once more, but he had vanished.

_Too bad that he was in third class,_ Lucy thought, feeling her heart pound. She pried herself away from the railing, snapping herself out of her thoughts. She couldn't dare to be attracted to something like his appearance alone, and she knew nothing about the man. Even more, she couldn't be drawn to him, as he was in third class.

In search of her suite, she prepared what she would say in her letter to Levy. In the short walk to her room, she pressed the door open, and found herself standing in silence. In her lonesome, she made her way to the desk.

Scribbling away in her cursive handwriting, she invited Levy up to first class for dinner. She planned to meet her in one of the entranceways that would allow the two to ride the elevator up to the deck with the dinner hall. Then, she caught one of the ship's employees in the hallway, begging him to deliver it to Levy McGarden in second class.

* * *

><p>Scanning the room numbers, Natsu peeked inside the doorway of the one that matched up to the number on his ticket. Meeting an empty room, Natsu entered with reckless caution, dropping his bag onto the bunk that looked untouched. He stared at the sink and bureau in the middle of the room, he found himself wondering what there was that the ship had to offer. Fortunately for Natsu, he had gotten on the ship earlier than most. Only an hour had passed since noon, and <em>Titanic<em> would be leaving by two. That was enough time for him to adapt to the maze-like structure of the vessel, and if he found himself eager enough, he would find his way to the deck to introduce himself to other guests traveling in his class.

Unlike most passengers, Natsu was traveling on the _Titanic_ by himself. Not once had he considered that he would get lonely on the ship, being that he was sociable and made friends easier than most. The same went for his skills with making enemies, however. He didn't care much about his enemies, and if he had to, he would still help them. It was non-negotiable, much like it was in his own DNA.

Natsu wasn't planning on traveling to America for jobs, but for something that he had done quite the bit in Europe. He wanted adventures, and he sought for more stories to be able to tell. America was his next stop, and the _Titanic_ was just another quest to him. He'd been to several other countries in Europe, and he had even gone to France to see the Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triomphe_. _He was extremely curious about what America had to offer, and he would make his way across the nation, reach the west coast, then find his way back to the east to return to Ireland.

As two figures appeared in the doorway, one opened his mouth to speak first. "I told you that the others would be getting on in Ireland," the black-haired one said, furrowing a brow. "Your name?"

Natsu looked towards the two as he shuffled through his bag. "Natsu Dragneel," he said, looking between the ginger and the dark-haired men. Based on pure expressions, he could tell that the one who had spoken already was the more hostile one, and the other had pale lipstick stains on his cheeks.

"The name's Gray Fullbuster," he replied, dropping down on the bottom bed of the bunk opposite to Natsu's. He stripped off his coat, slinging it on the headboard of the bed.

The other man smiled, adjusting his glasses. "My name would be Loke," he said, extending his hand. Natsu took him up for a brief handshake, and resumed to going through his stuff.

The three remained in silence, and Natsu felt the cold aura of Gray digging him in the back. He had a feeling that he would forget their names by the evening, so he resumed to repeating their names in his head, then turned to them and asked, "What are the directions to get up to the deck?"

Loke looked over at him, and he furrowed a brow behind his glasses. "Which deck? There's the shit deck, or the promenade," he joked, stripping off the coat in the extreme heat of the room. Turning to Gray and his hostile stare, Loke shrugged. "It was just a joke," he testified, looking with expectant eyes at Natsu.

The room's new guest debated what deck would be the most "promising," and he shrugged with an unusual, non-committal attitude. Feeling completely new to the ship, he figured that he would let the others decide for him, and his own choices would come out when he knew he couldn't get himself lost.

Jotting down instructions to each of the decks, Loke excused himself, saying that he had to meet a girl for some drinks. As he slipped out of the room, he told Natsu that there was an informal, unofficial party coming up the next night for third class passengers. He bid his temporary farewell, and Gray invited himself up to the deck with Natsu.

Along the way up, the two managed to find themselves in a hefty argument that had a reason that was long lost. The two were hushed as soon as they reached the deck, each of them stepping out onto a deck in the open air. The ship balanced on the waves, waiting for the passengers to complete the loading process.

Natsu masked his mouth with his hand as he felt the sick feeling rising up in his stomach. The majority of the time since he had boarded the ship at the port, he wondered when he was going to begin to feel sea and motion sick. He felt the nauseated feeling begin to rise up on the dinghy, but before it could become too serious, he found himself standing on a rather steady ship.

Gray peeked over at him, rolling his eyes with a smug look on his face. He imagined the terrible situation he was in store for, sharing the room with the king of motion sickness. Gray hadn't yet heard of a single person complaining about it, but Natsu's eyes seemed to roll back as he leaned against the railing behind him.

By the time that the ship had left Ireland and embarked on its journey across the Atlantic Ocean, Natsu found himself engaged in a conversation with a small group. They all listened to his tales, and he spoke openly about his trips. They listened with interest, smiling and laughing, and he was amazed that no one had drifted away from him.

Beside him, Gray was kneeling on the bench, looking out over the ocean. Staring out on the ocean, he breathed in the strong smell of salt air. His Irish comrade seemed to have adjusted to the motion sickness. Bidding farewell to Europe silently, Gray looked up to the deck that overlooked the deck on the stern. A woman that resembled the ocean peered down on him, a look of shock and wonder on her face.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope that you guys are enjoying the chapters so far! This is my first author's note since the character summaries, so hello! I'm glad that you guys are following along with the chapters, and if you just hopped onto the bandwagon, welcome!**

**I finally got to introduce Natsu, and oddly, he came in a lot later than I had planned and expected, so I figured that I would blow through these chapters until I had all of my characters introduced! Anyways, in the next chapter or two, Juvia will finally meet Gray face-to-face and Lucy will approach Natsu! I hope that you guys look forward to that, and for me personally, I can't wait to write more Jerza moments, because they're my OTP! I have so many ideas!**

**On another note, if you guys have any comments, feel free to PM me, and I would love to hear your feedback in the review section! It would also mean the world to me if you artists would draw some pictures as how you interpret the scenes, and send them to me on Tumblr (emichama) or at my email (****keishachan ****)~!**

**I look forward to hearing from you, and I hope you enjoy what's to come!**


	5. The Beacon of Hope

Curiosity had captivated Lucy far beyond her own good, because something was telling her to make her way to the back of the ship. She wasn't sure if first class passengers were allowed there, but she knew that something awaited her there. It was something for her own good-or so she hoped.

Excusing herself from her afternoon meal and tea with her mother, Lucy had made her way to explore the top of the ship. She hadn't seen many of the first class amenities yet, and she planned to pay a trip to the Turkish baths and pool at some point on the trip. She was desperate for something to distract her, and she had yet to hear back from her comrade in second class. The dinner plans for the evening weren't yet official, and she hoped that Levy would be able to attend.

Layla had been completely accepting of the idea, being that she and Jude had a planned dinner conversation that Lucy couldn't hear. Lucy's father explained to her that she was far too young to pay witness to adult discussions and business talk. Even if Lucy was old enough to attend, it wasn't as though she would want to be there.

Independently strolling at a leisurely pace down the promenade, she was in search of the rear end of the ship. Being that she was tracing the border of the ship, she expected to make it within a few minutes. Several crew members had tipped their hats to her, recognizing her off of her mirror-like resemblance to her mother. It was an appearance that she was proud of and confident in, because her mother was an amazing, beautiful, and kind woman.

She found herself opening gates and walking down corridors inside of the ship. Occasionally, she stopped to examine the little maps that they had of the decks, and by the time she made it to the back, Ireland was out of sight and the _Titanic_ was traveling at full speed in the direction of America.

Feeling as though she was standing alone on a ship full of people, Lucy looked at the faces of the other passengers as they socialized on the back deck. No one dared to look at her, as they were all caught up in their own conversations. In a way, it felt like a relief to not have eyes staring her down and undressing the fabric of her being until she was just a body of feminosity and social influence.

Children were openly playing on the deck, and adults spoke and talked as they pleased. There seemed to be little judgement in the air, and Lucy was growing a bit jealous. She forced herself to hide the smile on her lips as she observed the people, fixing her clothes to look as casual as she could, tipping her hat in the direction of the sun.

Taking note of the cluster of people, Lucy wandered in their direction, hoping to take part in their social outing. No one was talking except for a lone voice, and as she struggled to peek over a man's shoulder, he allowed her foward and closer to the subject. She was allowed through until she stood behind a single woman and her child, but it was enough.

The voice was telling a story, confidence and spunk rolling off his tongue as though he were an entertainer. His voice was odd and unique, and Lucy could hear the Irish accent. It was weak, but there, and even more, it was _captivating_. The sound of his voice flooded his ears, and his story was impressive as well. It was a tale of riding through the desert in Egypt, as he was forced to travel with a gypsy caravan.

Poking her head around the woman and her child, Lucy gasped as quietly as she could. Her brown eyes quickly took in the sight; pink hair that matched the color of the pale rose, as well as the sharp eyes that seemed open and strong, but the color of them matched someone who was mysterious and brooding. He was no different from when he was boarding, other than his removed coat. Feeling her heart throb in her chest, the man she admired from the distance was sitting on the bench in front of her.

Even more, he was telling a story of experience.

Drowning in his voice, Lucy stared at the man with deep interest and passion. He told his stories exactly how Levy spoke of the tales in her book. His tone was casual and lax, unlike Levy, who still had hints of refinement. At some point in his tale, the man locked eyes with Lucy for a moment, and a smile stretched across his face. She knew that he wasn't smiling for her, but it still sent chills running through her spine.

Feeling as though she had arrived too late, his story ended. He tipped his head with a cocky smile as he finished, and it only took a few short moments for the crowd to ask questions then disperse. Feeling like a lost sheep, Lucy remained standing in the same spot.

The man had looked to his friend for the moment, and the two shot foul nicknames at each other. The dark-haired fellow raised an eyebrow at Lucy as a silent greeting, and walked away. His mind seemed caught up in something else, but Lucy returned her attention to the Irishman.

"Hey," he said quickly, beating her to the first strike.

It was a relief, being that she didn't have to start the conversation. The smile quickly left his lips, transforming into a look of curiosity. Hesitantly, Lucy greeted him and asked to sit down. He obliged, scooting over for her. The two slipped into easy conversation as Lucy asked him for his name.

He revealed himself to be named Natsu Dragneel, and something about his name brought the thought of fire to Lucy's mind. It was passionate, strong, endearing, fierce, and reminded her of a dragon. She told him her name, and he teased her about how her name was ordinary.

"So, Miss Lucy, are you as ordinary as your name portrays?" he joked, his confidence washing over Lucy.

She puffed her cheeks at him, her arrogance an act for the moment. "Tell me what you think? Do I seem ordinary?"

Tilting his head back, he exhaled in thought. "I don't know," he said with an exhasperated exhale. "You dress like one of the rich people on the ship, and I haven't heard you talk enough. Maybe, if you want to seem like you're 'out of the norm,' you should try going by Luigi or something like that," he mocked, twisting her name. "I met a man in Italy a few years ago that went by that name, and he was the weirdest guy I had ever met."

Leaning her head to the side, she had been reminded why she sat down with Natsu in the first place. "Tell me about him," she encouraged, folding her hands in her lap. His eyes moved to her as he refused to lift his head, and he smiled.

"He made some of the best pasta I've ever eaten, and his wife, Magnolia, I think, used to hit him upside the head with a rolling pin when he'd do something derranged. I remember him running out of the shop one day, a fork of noodles in his hand, and he ran up to every stranger, begging them to take the bite."

Lucy narrowed her eyes at the thought. "What would drive a man to do that?"

With a weak shrug, he openly confessed, "No idea. It was just something his wife said that he did. I definitely don't regret meeting them, however. They might be one of the reasons that I enjoyed stopping in Italy."

_Stopping in Italy?_ He acted as though traveling was just something typical. She asked, "Do you travel often?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed, moving to lean forward and use his legs as a support. He slouched, staring at the little kids playing. "What would life be without the experiences? I mean, who cares if no one supports you, or if you don't have a whole lot of money? When you need it, survial instincts kick in, and that's when the trip becomes fun."

A look of befuddlement caught Natsu's attention. Lucy looked shocked and amazed, and Natsu asked her, "Why, you don't travel?"

She shook her head sadly. "No, but I want to. This is my second trip, and my first was a wasted event, being that I only saw the Eiffel Tower and it was purely for my father's business."

"Travel with me, Lucy," Natsu suggestively teased, looking at her with a smile. He leaned his back against the railing, widening his smile when he saw the blood rush to her face. "Come and see the world with me."

Lost in shock, Lucy opened her lips to respond, but nothing came to her. Her awkwardness forced her to tremble a bit. The silence forced Natsu to break it, being that he didn't like things when things could be left incomplete. He added, to make her more comfortable, "Or send me letters of your adventures, and one day, I could try to take you somewhere-if you're up to it."  
>"O-of course, I'm up to it," Lucy stammered. "I take it that you have a lot of stories to tell, don't you?"<p>

Natsu raised a brow at her. "Of course, I do. Do you not want me to tell them? I don't want you to think I'm being a cocky bastard," he said with a slight laugh.

"No, please, tell me them. I want to hear about the world."

As Natsu engaged in his story, Lucy took in each of his words. She wanted to reach out and hug him, thanking him for sharing his experiences with her. He spoke fluently, and Lucy loved that she could tell that the man in front of her appreciated every moment he lived. He occasionally added his side comments to make sure that Lucy knew how he felt about everything. Lucy even asked him to tell the gypsy story for her again, and he did so, vividly describing the taste of their unique food, the sound of their music. In her mind, Lucy could imagine the distant culture.

As he neared the end of the story, Natsu prepared himself to add a comment that he hadn't included in the story for the public. He told Lucy, "In a way, I kind of feel like a gypsy. I mean, Ireland is my home, and I always return, but I've never found myself in the same place for very long. I like to travel."

Running his hand through his pink hair, he exhaled as he slightly planned out his next thing to say. He wasn't sure if the blonde girl was ready for another story, and as he turned to look at her, the oddest, perkiest smile was plastered on her lips. It was the look that made him feel like he told his story perfectly.

"Mr. Dragneel, would you care to join me for dinner in first class tomorrow evening? I'd like to thank you for your story," she said, standing up. She could see crewmembers, and she needed to take her leave before the officials on the ship would escort her.

Smiling, he had never eaten in first class, and he wasn't looking forward to the potatoes and soup he would be eating in his own class. "Of course," he said. "To more experiences," he said with a salute to Lucy.

"Meet me in the hall of the Grand Staircase," she said, then told him the directions to where she wanted to meet him.

Turning to excuse herself, she smiled outwardly, far too excited to tell Levy of the man that she had met. Already, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Never before had she been so comfortable with a man, and it was admirable. Her fast heartbeat told her that Natsu Dragneel was her saving grace, and she yearned for a story of their own.

Natsu watched her take her leave. He wondered what sort of adventures that he would partake in on the _Titanic_, and for some reason, he found himself yearning to have those adventures with Lucy Heartfilia.

With a smile, he whispered, "I guess that this is where our adventure begins."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Natsu and Lucy finally met! Once again, thank-you for reading **_**Breaking the Boundary**_**! I'm really looking forward to writing this story, which is why chapters are coming out so quickly! To be honest, I'm really hoping to slow down a bit and establish a pace for me to post at.**

**If Natsu seems a bit out of character, my apologies! He has a very distinct personality, and he isn't the easiest character to portray. Also, I've made the decision to have Juvia speak normally, saying, "I," instead of "Juvia," because I've come to realize that writing like that is a bit difficult! I hope that you guys don't mind! I hope to hear from you all!**


	6. Chapter 6: Water and Ice

Juvia had instantly recognized the face of Gray Fullbuster, and from afar, his distinct features wouldn't be hard to put to a name. From a single photograph, she could remember the dark and brooding stare, the way his hair messily fell in his face and was parted forward, and the way that his body was built. She remembered how much she looked forward to meeting the only Fullbuster son, but when their arranged marriage had been cancelled, something in her heart shattered.

Outside of the photograph, he was stunning. His brooding gaze had more meaning, and something about him was far more beautiful than a single portrait. Staring at him, she leaned in closer. Supporting herself with the railing, she held her breath, wondering if she could take the chance to meet him. It didn't even matter to her that he was a passenger on third class, because he was still Gray Fullbuster.

His gaze moved from the ocean to the place where Juvia was standing. Blushing, she took a step back. She panicked, wondering if he had caught her staring at him. Unable to remove her dark blue eyes from his, she held her breath, wondering when the moment would end. It seemed to last forever, until she realized that he had raised a brow at her.

Remembering that there was no way for him to recognize her, she felt sad that her parents had never sent her own photograph to him. Juvia wondered if the man she had been arranged to marry even cared to remember her, or even if he had ever cared. She even contemplated if he might have cared the slightest if he saw her photo.

Feeling the drop in her heart, she exhaled. Turning away from the railing, she fixed the white gown that she had put on for her afternoon stroll. Despite the terrible feeling of sadness in her heart, she yearned for him, wanting to know if there was a possibility to meet him and for her to mend her broken heart. She _would not_ allow someone to interfere with her meeting him.

For several minutes, Juvia played coy. She acted as though she was scanning the deck below, but continuously, Gray shot watchful eyes at her. For several times, their eyes locked, and Juvia grew nervous, her knees shaking. She wanted to talk to him, to meet him for the first time.

Juvia wasn't sure if she could stand him refusing her, or if he and she went their separate ways after docking in America. It was already the second day of the trip, and she only had a few more days to convince him that Juvia Lockser was a woman with knowing and remembering.

Quickly, she recollected her thoughts. She saw a first class passenger slip into the crowd of that had surrounded the man sitting next to Gray. Juvia found herself wondering what had caused a commotion, but she had no time to wonder and worry. Hurrying back to her room, she knew that her father would be in the smoking room, and it didn't bother her that her that her mother was not on the trip. She had tonight free to herself, and her father would be at a meeting with the Hearfilias. At some point, when she would find the free time, she planned to introduce herself to Lucy. According to her father, the two would be associating themselves with one another quite the bit in America.

For now, she wanted to introduce and become acquaintances with the Fullbuster boy.

The halls were impressive, and she made her way through the Grand Staircase to find her room. It had become the path that she grew accustomed to, and the pathways of the ship were far too complex for her to be adapted to them within a day.

Entering her room, she sat down at her desk. Preparing herself, she took out a clean sheet of stationery paper, organizing her thoughts. She wanted to make sure that she could invite him in a clean and simple way, wanting to keep her previous relationship a secret until she saw him face-to-face. Lifting a pen in her right hand, she pressed it to the paper, and begun to write in her finest handwriting.

Penning his name, she begun to place her thoughts down onto paper. She invited him up to first class for dinner that evening, begging him to wear his finest clothes. She announced that she had heard about him from family, and desired to meet him. Remaining vague, she smiled as she signed her name at the bottom.

Handing it to her butler, Juvia leaned back in her chair. Turning to look out the window, she smiled. The _Titanic_ was definitely the "ship of dreams." Inside her head, she repeated, "_Sincerely, Juvia Lockser,_" several times, hoping that the note would make it to him in time.

Flustered, she stood up, pacing around the room, slipping between archways to enter separate parts of her own suite. Juvia's knees felt weak, and she wanted to collapse onto her bed and sleep until she had to wake up and get ready, but naps were not for ladies. Feeling lost, she heard the door open as her butler slipped back into the room, and he offered to make her some tea.

Taking him up on the offer, she hoped that the tea would soothe her nerves. Her heart slammed in her chest, her breathing was stammering and uneven, and she was constantly trembling. In the moments that the tea was steeping, she felt as though she was ready to break down. Taking the china teacup in her hand, she quickly took a sip from it, feeling the warmth calm her down.

The taste of the tea was so similar, almost the same as the brand she had in her own home. She'd become familiarized with the taste, being that she was always too hesitant to leave the home. It felt as though disaster followed her, and her troubles brought her hate. Staying home, she typically took a cup of tea with her to curl up on her window seat, staring out at the rain. It seemed as though it rained at her home often, and people refused to visit, rumors spreading that the property was turning into a swamp.

When her parents had come into her room on a particular day, her mother had been holding an envelope and her father had a softest smile on his face. They announced that her wedding arrangements had been made, and her mother handed the envelope for her to open, and she removed the picture. They told her about his family, and how they owned a successful business.

That day, her tea had never tasted so sweet, and her heart fluttered. Her parents claimed that Gray didn't refuse to the marriage in any way whatsoever, and for the first time, Juvia felt embraced by someone who didn't know her. She looked forward to meeting him, but a year later, the Fullbuster company crashed and the family had lost everything.

Gray Fullbuster was out of reach.

Staring down into her cup, Juvia eyed her butler, who looked at her with eyes that had always been so reassuring. He had added the perfect amount of sugar cubes to the tea, and he had stirred it perfectly, as always. She smiled at him, then moved to stare out the window that overlooked the sea. The way that the sun shone down on the ocean made her feel as though the water would be warm, but deep down, she knew it was far too cold.

Wondering what it was like in the water, she imagined swords digging into her body. Shivering, she prayed there would never be a need for her to be in the water, and she hugged herself as she finished her tea. The air was warm outside, but she had been seen wearing her coat nearly everywhere on the ship.

"Did the letter make it, do you think?" Juvia turned around, handing the cup to her butler. He placed it on the metal tray gently, turning back to the lady.

"The crewmember that I handed the note to said that he would rush it. It seems that the crew on this ship is to be trusted, being that your father told me that only the finest, most capable men were hired."

She nodded. "It seems like that," she said. "I've had to ask for help several times, and the crew helped me so willingly."

Falling into silence after her butler nodded, he was excused to take care of the tea set. Juvia couldn't help feeling impatient for her encounter with Gray, and she was desperate for distractions. Hurrying, she moved towards her closet, sorting through her dresses.

Her mother had helped her choose some of the finest, some of the articles designed by Erza Scarlet. She was another woman that Juvia had planned to introduce herself to in the near future, but she couldn't bring herself to do it now. All she could think about was Gray, and she couldn't afford losing track of time.

Checking reflection for the final time that evening, Juvia stood at the entrance for one of the many dining halls for first class passengers. She had given the best instructions she could in the letter to Gray, and she had even included the name. Growing nervous, she couldn't help but make sure that she looked presentable. Finding the little flaws, she fixed them by running her hands through her hair or shifting the hair back over her shoulders.

She found that she looked best with her hair down, the loose waves and curls swirling as they pleased. She'd done it many other styles, such as short and long, but she had never been fully pleased until she placed them down. As usual, a hat adorned her head, and quite often, she felt like a wreck without it.

The sound of a single pair of shoes broke the silence in the hall, and Juvia quickly turned to see who was arriving. Swallowing, she placed a smile on her face, crossing her hands in front of her. Gray exhaled quietly, removing his hands from his suit pockets. Before Juvia could say anything, he spoke first.

"Are you Juvia Lockser?" he asked, raising a brow. It was the same way that he had cocked his brow at her when he saw her staring. To her somewhat relief, it seemed as though he didn't remember her from earlier in the day.

Nodding slowly, she flinched when he extended his hand. "I figured that you know me as a wealthy Fullbuster, so I might as well act like a gentleman." She took his hand, and he placed a quick kiss as a greeting on the back of it.

"I-it's nice to meet you, Mr. Fullbuster." She choked a bit, stuttering. Taking a step back, she turned herself to the door of the restaurant slightly. "Do you mind my choice in food?"

Peeking in through the window, he shook his head. "Anything on this ship would definitely have more promise than what they serve in third class," he teased, escorting Juvia into the restaurant. He could feel her shaking slightly as her arm was looped through his.

Taking a seat near a window, the two were offered menus. Through small talk, the two peered through the menu and decided what they wanted. After ordering and handing the selection menu over, Gray turned his head to Juvia. He was ready to ask his own questions, which he had bothered to think about since the letter had been handed to him.

"You saw me on the deck earlier today, am I correct?" he said bluntly.

The thoughts that he had forgotten were gone, and Juvia stuttered. "W-well, yes, actually… I instantly recognized you from a photograph, and I thought I would take the opportunity to introduce myself to you. There was a slight possibility that you would recognize my name, so I didn't think to heavily of sending a letter to you."

_Remember her name? I don't remember anyone going by Lockser, _he thought, taking a sip of the champagne that had been poured for him. He figured that he would savor the alcohol, slightly bothered by the prohibition in America.

"Sorry, but I don't recognize your name. I've been a bit… 'preoccupied,' if understand what I mean. It's nothing personal, it's just that I've discarded a handful of my memories to make room for my future."

Juvia shook her head. "It's not an issue. To be honest, I was hoping…" She stopped herself, wondering if she should confess herself so early on in the trip. Swallowing, she desired to take a risky step, despite the possibility of disaster. "I was hoping that you would remember me, because I was arranged to marry you."

Gray choked on his drink, placing the cup down on the table before he damaged himself more. Swallowing, he struggled to bring his eyes to Juvia's, his body heating up. He hadn't expected her to say something so major, and he could see the distress in her eyes. Even he knew not to slip up, so he searched his scrambled thoughts for something to say.

_How the hell could I forget her name? _Panicking, he reminded himself that he thought love was pointless in his future, being that he would be far too busy. He discarded every memory of Juvia and what potential he had with her. In the beginning, he was never one for love, but he wasn't going to refuse his parents' proposal. She sounded sweet and kind, but he didn't think he would ever feel any real _love_ for her. When the wedding was cancelled, he didn't need the idea anymore.

"Sorry, but-"

Juvia interjected, forcing herself to sit up proudly. The sadness and regret was still there, but she fought it. "Don't apologize, please. It was foolish of me to think that you would remember me, being that we had never even met, nor have you ever seen a picture of me. At least I have the chance to meet you now, and it _is_ nice to meet you, Mr. Fullbuster."

Averting his eyes, he replied, "Yeah, it's nice to meet you, as well."

"Do you have anymore questions for me?"

Gray wondered if the rest of his questions were worth asking. It seemed as though she had answered them all, but he was still going to bring himself to ask them. Taking a sip of the alcohol, he nodded his head. "Yeah… Is that the reason why you invited me to dinner?"

She nodded, taking a sip of her own wine. She was planning on drinking slowly, not wanting to get herself drunk on her first night with Gray. She had never been drunk before, but she figured she would be a bit odd.

"Doesn't it bother you that I'm a poor civilian now? Or that I'm a third class passenger?" His gaze turned cold, judging. He brought the glass to his lips again, drinking as he waited for her answer.

Juvia refused, stating that he was still Gray, and his wealth and class did not define him. He seemed a bit shocked by her answer, not expecting her to be so accepting of his situation or the other classes. He let out a sigh as he placed the empty glass down, and nodded.

Despite his typical lack of interest, something about Juvia drawed him in and allured him. He was curious about her, and she was different from the other girls that he had been surrounded by. By the end of the night, when he escorted Juvia to her room, he promised to meet her for a stroll in the morning of the next day.

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><p><strong>AN: I hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter! I was really eager to write a whole entire chapter that was dedicated to Gruvia, and I'm glad to have finally introduced Juvia as a character! In this chapter, I also made a suggestive reference to the **_**Titanic**_** movie! If you didn't catch it, it was when Juvia imagines swords digging into her body as she wonders what the water feels like! It was a reference to when Jack tells Rose what it's like to fall into freezing water.**

**I must say that I'm overly excited to be writing this fanfic, and hearing that you all love it really makes me happy and encourages me to write! Like I suggested in an earlier chapter, I would love to see some art from you all for this fanfic! It would mean the world to me~ Thanks, and once again, I hope to hear from you all!**


	7. A Mirror for the Stars

Something about the night sky drew Jellal out onto the deck. He peered up at the sky, running his bare hand across the cold railing. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, like the night before, but he couldn't help but focus his thoughts on this night alone. It was nothing like the nighttime in England, being that the lights blotted out the stars. Here, the only luminescence was from the vessel that sailed across the smooth Atlantic Ocean. It was a night that most people would enjoy in silence, but he found himself yearning for one particular person.

Turning around, he adjusted his coat and fixed the buttons. The thoughts of _her_ made him lose his typical pout, and his cold body begun to heat up. Hurrying, he took quick steps back to the room, opening the door quietly as he hoped that the other servants for the Scarlet family would be asleep. The intense silence cued so, and Jellal stepped into the dimly lit suite.

Erza was curled up under her blankets, a single lamp lit nearby for her. Her brown eyes were skimming the page of a book, but when the floorboards quietly moaned beneath Jellal's feet, she looked up. Her eyes softened and turned into a stare of curiosity and wonder. She mouthed his name, afraid to wake the servants in the other part of the suite.

Making his way towards her slowly, Jellal extended his hand. With doubt, Erza took the opportunity. Weakly, he tugged for her to stand and gestured a bit, hinting that he desired for her to join him on an evening stroll on the deck. Swallowing her nerves, she put her bare foot down on the cold floor. A shiver shot through her spine, and Erza reached to pull Jellal towards her, yearning for the heat that he had stored in his coat.

Removing himself from the room as Erza changed into a dress suitable for public, he stood outside of the door. Jellal was still doubting why he had gone to the room to pester Erza and bring her out of her bed to see the stars. There were so many other nights for him to do so, and he could have waited for one night that she had wanted to be out the room until late, but he wanted to do something with her in that moment.

Switching lights so that the suite remained dim, Erza checked her reflection in the mirror. Sweeping strands of her red hair over her shoulder, she wondered what Jellal wanted to show her. He remained silent, but she knew that he planned for the two to leave the room together. Glancing at the clock, Erza shifted so that her shadow wasn't casted over it. It signaled that it was nearing the eleven, but for some reason, something in her felt _alive._

Reassuring herself in the mirror, Erza went towards the door to leave her suite. Jellal turned as he heard the door click, and in that moment, he took her hand.

"J-jellal!" Erza exclaimed, being tugged by his grip.

She followed him out into the open, where the cold Atlantic air hit her like a brick wall. It was sensational and tingled her skin. The lace around her silk fabric swayed in the wind, and Jellal couldn't stop himself from admiring it for the moment. Finally, he exhaled and relaxed.

"I wanted you to see the sky without the city lights," he explained in a whisper. He still hadn't let go of her hand, and he begun to guide Erza towards the railing.

She gasped in amazement as her eyes trailed along the ocean and little dots for the stars were reflected in the water. They flickered and shivered as the waves moved, some occasionally vanishing from her line of sight. She exhaled in amazement as she moved her gaze to the sky, where the same image remained still and beautiful. She had never seen the stars in such flourishing amounts in the city, so she had thought that they would never impress her again. Out in the open darkness, the stars were abundant and gorgeous.

Erza's grip around Jellal's hand tightened, yet she wasn't aware that the two were still holding hands. Nervously, Jellal shifted his own, hoping that he could intertwine their fingers. As she allowed him to do so, he relaxed, still a bit nervous. Savoring the moment, Jellal looked up to the stars with her. The two had something in common and, for what had felt like an eternity, Jellal had been searching for a moment to share with her.

In the lasting moment, Erza turned to Jellal, and pleaded, "Walk with me, please?"

Obliging, the two let go of one another's hands. Jellal wasn't disappointed, and he felt safe knowing that he could reach out and brush his hand against her pale, soft skin, but in a way, it was still forbidden. He desperately craved her touch, but she didn't belong to him, nor were his feeling permitted.

Walking alongside her, he removed his coat. Before it could lose its warmth, he wrapped it around Erza's body and stepped in front of her to assist her in slipping her arms through and doing up the buttons. Erza remained baffled, stuttering on his name as he did so. As he finished the buttons, Jellal's warmth blocked out the cold and was all she could feel. She looked up to him as he smiled down at her, reassuring her that he wasn't cold.

Like their moment on the promenade during their first day on the ship, Erza looped her arm through Jellal's allowing him to guide her. Slowly and quietly, they made their way to the bow of the ship. Jellal couldn't stop himself from occasionally glancing at Erza while leading her. She never removed her eyes from the sky, and she seemed to be savoring every moment of it.

As the two arrived in the open area of the bow, Erza released herself from Jellal, stepping forward to face him. "You have an impressive choice in nights to call me out of the room," she teased. "It's beautiful out here, Jellal."

"Beautiful and cold," he replied, shivering a bit. He laughed to reassure her, unrolling the sleeves of his button-down shirt, saving himself from the cold. Reaching out to stop Erza from removing the coat from her body, he added, "I'll be fine. I want this moment to be about you."

Hesitant, her hands dropped to her side. "You do a lot for me," she whispered as she averted her eyes. "You make it difficult for me to take care of you."

"That's because I want to be the one to take care of you."

Erza opened her mouth to rebuttal, but nothing made it past her lips. She quickly took steps forward, huffing as she hugged Jellal. She buried her face in his chest, which muffled her words, "Thank-you, Jellal…"

Something about him wanting to protect her tugged on her heart. She looked up at him, swallowing the lump in her throat. Pulling herself out of the hug, Erza slid her hand up to his cheek, running it over the red tattoo that had permanently etched into his skin. She remembered the moment that it was put there, a permanent reminder for her, constantly pestering her memories. They were the memories of the night that her parents had been killed, and she had lost so many things that were precious to her. And she recalled the moment that Jellal told her that he had failed to protect her because of the events of that night.

In no way could she blame him, but to Jellal, Erza's worst nightmare was his fault, and he was unable to be her savior, like he had promised her parents. She remembered how her family had been slaughtered in front of her and Jellal, while Erza couldn't prevent herself from sobbing. Jellal cried as well, and he occasionally tried to reach his hand out to grab ahold of Erza. Sometime in the night, when Erza's tears had dried out, Jellal was forced to watch as they blinded Erza's right eye. In exchange for their freedom, the men needled their insignia onto Jellal's face, which would constantly be there to haunt Erza's memories.

Staring down at Erza, Jellal could see the tears beginning to rim a single one of her eyes. Before it could fall, he wiped it with his thumb, and removed her hand from his tattoo, covering it with his own hand. He didn't like to remind himself of the memories, and he didn't like to think about how he failed to protect Erza, but it hurt him more to see the woman that he cared most about be hurt by the distant past.

"What happened to your oath to not cry, Erza?" he whispered in a hushed tone.

She looked up to him with a soft smile. "It seems that you're always there to stop me from crying, making me keep my promise."

Refusing to wait, Jellal took a step forward to close the space between them, wrapping his arms around her and nestling her in his chest. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he stared out into the distance, past the frontward point of the ship.

As the tensity in the moment smoothed over, Erza left Jellal's side to walk towards the front of the ship. She stood up tall and proud, allowing the wind to run through her hair. Afraid to approach her, Jellal stood in his spot, watching her. His eyes followed the lace of her dress as it tailed and billowed behind her, and he traced her figure up to her hair, which was highlighted and accented by the moonlight.

Looking down into the water, Erza observed the lights and the stars that had been reflected. She called Jellal over, immediately reaching for his hand, and she said, "You've never failed to protect me. Don't doubt yourself, and don't doubt me. We can be strong together." Making the promise, she held his hand in a romantic sort of way.

"Erza, you don't-"

"Let's protect each other," she declared, smiling at him. "We can make sure that neither of us needs to feel sorrow ever again."

Nodding, he looked down at the water. Erza followed his gaze, and admitted, "I love how the water is like a mirror. It's reflecting the world above it, but it has it's own secrets beneath it."

Jellal blinked his eyes as he looked to the side at her. She smiled down at the rippling waves, watching the water break against the ship, and so quickly, with a single promise, her worries washed away. She was the strong and stable Erza Scarlet once more, and with each and every one of her words, Jellal felt a bit more secure. He tightened his grip around her hand, refusing to remove his hand from hers.

_I won't let go._

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><p><strong>AN: Oh, my! I got to put lots of Jerza fluff and angst into this chapter, and to be honest, I was hesitant to make this one a bit depressing, but it really brought the strength out in it, I think, as well as deepening the relationship between Erza and Jellal! Anyways, I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter, and I'll never hesitate from writing Jerza love!**

**To the people following my story who read the original, my "editor" decided to pull a prank and add some joke into one of my sentences and replaced "cheeks" with "buttcheeks." Thanks, Shizuka, for the embarrassing mistake~**

**I think that the romance in the series is starting to unfold beautifully, and there's still lots of evolving to do before the big climax! Expect lots of Nalu, Gruvia, and Gajevy coming up, and I can't wait to hear from you all!**


	8. Hopeful Resentment

Lucy couldn't stop herself from glowing, and she wasn't sure if it was because she looked forward to the dinner at hand or the dinner the next night. Levy strolled beside her, wearing the nicest dress that she could find and her hair done up nicely. When Lucy saw her little friend, she admired the way that loose locks fell from the updo, and greeted her with a hug tighter than the one at the Southampton docks.

After entering the hall of the Grand Staircase, the author's daughter couldn't stand waiting to know about why her blonde comrade was glowing so vibrantly. She tried to push aside the urges, hoping to keep it for dinner conversation, and of course, she had her own tale to tell about her experiences of the ship.

Inside, Levy knew that she looked forward to her meeting with Lucy on the ship more than landing in America. Something about her time she spent wandering the second class promenade and sitting in the library wasn't fulfilling to her, but she did admire the ship itself. It was a beautiful construction, but something about it would seem more enjoyable if she could spend her waking hours wandering it with a friend.

As Lucy walked beside her comrade, she was eager to hug her again. She yearned to talk about the stranger she met on the deck in the back of the ship, and she wanted to hear about how Levy was enjoying her trip. She felt as though the two hadn't seen each other in months, but the last time they had spent decent time in one another's company, talking for hours on end, had only been a week before they encountered each other at the dock.

Their encounter that time had been their farewell, not knowing when the last time they would see one another. At the time, Levy didn't know that she would be able to purchase a ticket for the ship at the last minute, and all hopes seemed lost for her to board it with her friend. But, things had switched around, being that her father managed to have another breakthrough in books and gifted some money to Levy, wanting his daughter to join Lucy on the voyage.

She had purchased the ticket from a supposed passenger that had changed their mind about traveling to America, selling it for the same price that they had bought it at. Levy jumped with glee, immediately making the arrangements for her name to be on the roster for passengers instead. She wanted to keep it a secret from her friend, possibly finding a way to send a letter to her room.

As they entered the restaurant, Lucy caught a glimpse of someone who seemed like man who had been sitting next to Natsu earlier that day, but he vanished behind other figures. Unable to fully assure herself it had been him, Lucy found a place to sit with Levy. They sat across one another, and in the moments of them settling in, they were greeted with cups of hot tea and glasses of champagne.

Growing eager and impatient, Lucy nearly lept out of her seat as she yearned to ask her question. She had been waiting to ask, and she finally had the chance. "Levy, how has your trip been? Has anything interesting happened or maybe some _encounters_?"

Levy nearly jumped at the way the blonde slurred the word "encounter" to be suggestive. Inside, she knew that she wanted to rant and complain about the American man, but she wasn't sure if she should. Lucy could the way Levy's brow rose, a thing she did when she inwardly debated.

"Do you not want to share?"

Levy shook her head, not hesitating a second. "No, I do, but I think you should speak first. The positives should always come first, correct? Tell me about your experiences."

Lucy nodded, raising a brow in concern. She wondered what negative things that her friend had to say, being that she usually was upbeat and positive. However, Levy did have her own feist, which was admirable.

"Well, I'll start with the positives, and then we can rant together," Lucy teased. As Levy smiled with a light giggle, Lucy continued. "So, earlier today, I met the most interesting person, and he's like a reincarnation of everything I want," she said, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"What do you mean?" Levy leaned in, curious. She had never heard Lucy speak of a person in such a way, unless it came to the characters in stories. She observed the way her cheeks became a pale pink, and the way that her eyes sparkled with eager fascination, and Levy felt her own cheeks grow warm with curiosity.

Lucy sighed with serendipitous joy, recalling his face and the way his expressions changed so dramatically, expressing how he felt about everything-every moment and thought and idea. Levy had been the only person that she had met that did that, and she was as expressive for stories as Natsu. "He had so many stories to tell, and he was so open to share and passionate about them, and… he was so… _perfect,_" she said dreamily. "Levy, you have _no idea_ how long I waited for someone like this."

"Lu, I'll bet you that I do," she teased, then took a sip of her tea. "Tell me more about him," she said. She added, "He seems interesting."

Lucy, still imagining the smile that Natsu wore while telling her his story, nodded. She knew that she had told Levy how she wanted someone with amazing stories to tell, a perfect personality, and made her heart flutter. She wasn't sure if what she felt towards Natsu was developing into love, but she knew that the third class passenger she had encountered suited her so perfectly. The thought of him made her shiver with excitement.

Trying to take a sip of her tea to soothe her nerves, Lucy's shaking hands beginning to calm down. "I don't know what to say… I've never been at a loss for words before. Well, he was extremely charismatic, and when I found him, people had flocked around him to hear his stories, so I grew curious. He was talking about his trip to Egypt, then after the crowd shrunk down, I sat down with him and he told me about a trip to Italy and retold me about his trip to the desert since I missed the beginning." Exhaling with excitement and shaking with joy, Lucy looked at Levy with eager eyes. "He was kind, funny, talkative, captivating, and he reminded me of the hero in a story. Something about him seemed so strong and generous, Levy…"

Reaching across the table, Levy took Lucy's hands. "It seems as though you're falling in love," she said, smiling with a single brow raised. It was a look that said Levy was confident in what she had said, and Lucy tripped over her words.

"H-h-how could I be falling in love with him!? We just met," Lucy stuttered awkwardly. "It was only one conversation, and I'm just fascinated by him, is all…"

Lucy left out the details of how she was entranced by the way his pink hair was tousled and ruffled, and how his stare was dark and mysterious, yet warm and welcoming. The way that he looked was fascinating in itself, but his personality and stories were what was really drawing Lucy in.

A faint smile rose up on Levy's lips, waiting for her blonde friend to continue her rambling. "His name is Natsu, and I think his last name is Dragneel. The worst factor of this story is that I have something to tell you, and this story-telling stranger is a third class passenger."

Hearing the latter, Levy nearly choked on her tea. Blinking up at her friend, she seemed hesitant to say anything to Lucy, and she took a sip of her tea once more, hoping to come up with something to tell her friend. The crowd of people around her begun to slow down, it felt like. Eventually, it seeed like Levy was encased in her own time, wondering what to say. She wasn't shunning the man Lucy was admiring, but she was worrying about what Lucy's parents would have to say, or even if the relationship could ever truly develop. Before she could evaluate her thoughts, words slip past her lips, "Do your parents know about him yet? And what's it that you have to tell me?"

Lucy knew that she couldn't avoid her questions. "Well, I can't tell my parents about him because of what I have to tell you." Levy looked pleadingly at her friend, hoping to discover something new. "Well, you see, one of the reasons that I'm traveling to America is because I'm supposed to be getting married to some man there…"

Choking again, Levy found herself unable to breathe. So many times had she heard Lucy describe how she was in love with love, and how she wanted to meet the man of her dreams. Just the moment before, Lucy was expressing how she felt about this traveling man that suited everything she loved, yet there was a restriction over her feelings. Unsure what to say or how to feel, Levy swallowed her champagne down, finally picking the glass up for the first time.

"L-lucy! What?! How?!" Levy continued to choke on her words, unsure how to phrase and order her scrambled thoughts. Quickly and suddenly, everything came to Levy as an epiphany. What was there left to say? How could she put her stressed thoughts into words? Her realization worried her, and it was all that she could think about.

Lucy had boarded the _Titanic_ to _move_ to America, and there was little to no chance that the only Heartfilia daughter would be returning to Europe within the next ten years. As soon as the two parted ways in America, it would be the last time the two would see one another, and even more, all hopes of Lucy falling in love would have fallen into the depths of hell. Levy couldn't help but feel sympathy and sadness for her friend, because she had never met someone more passionate. As a reader, she knew one word to describe Lucy, and she was a nefelibata. Levy had found the word in a book purely written in Portuguese, and she immediately fell in love with the word. The word encased Lucy's existence perfectly. She was so lost in the clouds, entombed in her thoughts and imagination.

Sadness sunk into Lucy's eyes, but her smile tried to reassure Levy. "No, no, I mean, I'm currently trying to convince my mother to let me marry someone I love, and she can persuade my father. If I fail, I might decide to run away, but I don't want to be too dramatic."

Taking Lucy's hands once more, Levy whispered, "Do what your heart wants, Lu. You're a good person, so I'm sure that you'll make a good decision."

The Heartfilia daughter nodded, blinking away the tears in her eyes. She bit her lip, finally bringing herself to ask, "What about you, Levy? You have yet to tell me about your encounters."

Levy swayed a bit in her chair, contemplating where to start. She desired to lighten up Lucy's heart, to make her smile again. "I met the American musician on the ship, and I must say, if all Americans are like that, I'll be boarding a ship back to Europe _as soon as possible_," she said, a look of fierceness in her eyes.

"What? From what I've heard, he's a gentleman, kind, smart," Lucy asked, listing the rumors she heard, taking a short sip of her wine, looking down at her empty teacup. She had finished it when she had told Levy about her fiance, and she was in desperate need of something to warm her nerves. Hoping the alcohol would soothe her body, she looked over the rim of the cup to her friend.

"More of a smart_ass_," she snapped at no one in particular. She didn't like the thought of him, and the way that he acted high and mighty. His fakeness was one thing, but his act was another. Levy continued on, "He was sweet, like you said, the first night. Earlier today, I found him on the deck, so I said hello, and he called me short and snapped at me. I hadn't even said a single rude word, so what brought him to be a jerk? He didn't have to put up his act of kindness, being that no one important was around!" She clenched her fists, narrowing her eyes in frustration.

Lucy chuckled under breath a bit, looking to her friend. She loved it when her temper came out, but she was a forgiving girl. She wouldn't be too mad at the American man for long, and by the morning, Levy's temper would have cooled down.

As Levy continued to rant and complain about Gajeel Redfox's rudeness, the two begun to sink into deeper conversations. Lucy eventually brought up that she and Natsu were having dinner together the next night, and Levy, at some point, teased that she was going to track down all of Gajeel's shows to pester him. Lucy could never find herself getting over her conversations with Levy. If she had to pass them up, she would miss them more than _anything._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hello, all! I'm finally falling into a more constant pace to post at, so please expect new chapters on Mondays! Also, I hope you all enjoyed this simple little chapter for Levy and Lucy! As to keep my account updated, I'll start releasing more oneshots to read, so I hope that you guys will keep an eye out for those!**

**We also only have three more peaceful days on the **_**Titanic**_** until tragedy strikes! I hope that you guys look forward to the climax, as well as the developments I have in store for each of the characters!**

**If you enjoyed this chapter, please favorite and follow the story, and leave a review for me to read, please! I love hearing feedback, and it would also mean the world to me if you would share my fanfic with others! I still do look forward to seeing art for this story by you all, so please send me pictures! Links are in my profile!**


	9. Evening Whiskey

The little makeshift bar area was flooded, passengers wanting to get themselves ahold of some legal liquor before landing in America. Loke floated into the lounge, and from what he had heard, it was the room that the party the next evening would be held in. It was spacious, and was holding a huge capacity of people, and the temporary band was talented.

Drowsily, he found a seat along the bar, looking for the barista. Within a few short moments, his eyes trailed down the waves and curls of the woman, and she turned around, her brow furrowing. Her dress was slightly dirty, and she lacked any jewelry. She had probably offered the run the bar for a few extra dollars.

"Your name?" Loke asked, winking. He slightly peered around her, wondering what kind of drink he would be interested in.

She chuckled a bit. "You're an open one, aren't you?" she teased, placing a mug of whiskey in front of him. "It's Cana, and in exchange for my name, I'm picking your booze."

His eyes trailed down to the mug that was topped with the golden liquid. He wondered what kind of whiskey had been poured, or even if it was clean. Loke had heard about the booze that was made in America, and due to alcohol being illegal, it was never more than anything thugs made for money from the rich.

"How much?" he droned, pulling out a clip of cash. The barista checked the menu, told him the price, which was fairly cheap, and he handed over his money. He also handed extra, offering to treat Cana to her own beer.

Taking him up on his offer, she shoved the money in a shelf behind the counter. Picking a bottle for herself, she came around to take the seat that had just gone empty next to him. Before Loke could devise a clever flirting scheme, the girl confessed, "Thanks for the beer-I'm a bit of an alcoholic, and I've been too low on cash to buy some personal treats."

Nodding in her direction, Loke took a sip. It was bitter, strong, and stung his nose. He wondered when the last time that he had taken a drink was. Alcohol was more of a thing for Gray, and occasionally, the cold-hearted roommate would leave empty bottles with a cigarette or two inside lying around. Always too busy with women to occupy his time with booze, Loke had never adapted to the strength of the punch that came with the drink.

As Loke begun a typical pick-up line for the barista, she leaned back and tipped the drink up. Listening to it, she closed her eyes. "Sorry, bad boy, but I don't fall for flirty words. In fact, I'm not looking for romance. I found love in booze, and I look for friendships in people."  
>Seeing her in a respectable way, Loke smiled. "You're one of the first girls to turn me down."<br>"And, I shot you down before anything interesting could happen," she added, clanking her bottle against his mug. She was a bit of a tomboy, and she was frank, open, and Loke found himself thrilled to be in her presence. He wasn't expecting to make female friends on the ship, but he saw potential in the brunette.

"You never told me your name," she said, spinning around in the chair. She looked out at the socializing crowd. "I can't just walk around the ship asking passenger's if they saw the flirty ginger-haired boy."

"You probably could," Loke said, chuckling. "I've already flirted and tested out most of the girls in third class. Some tried for a single night, others looking for a lasting relationship. To be frank, I'm really looking for quick wealth, but that's me being a scumbag."

Cana raised a brow at him, forcing him to spin in his chair. Gripping his shoulders, she asked, "Are you the guy that girls' have been dying to learn the last name of? The 'nameless wonder,' they're calling you."

He sighed. He had told them his first name, but as always, he preferred to keep his last name a secret. It wasn't a matter of being ashamed of it, or even if he was a criminal on the run… He didn't favor the idea of people tracking him down and being in search of him, and he had learned in the past that some women had a habit of doing so.

"By the way, my name is Loke," he explained, finishing up the strong alcohol.

Instantly, he regretted the drink, feeling woozy and yearned for his bed. However, he saw no interest being the first one back in the room. Loke had never been the first one to retire for the night, and he didn't plan to ruin his streak on a ship. He knew that Gray wouldn't be back from dinner with his mysterious first class maiden, and their Irish roommate, Natsu, had wandered off to explore different nooks and crannies of the _Titanic_.

Falling into deeper conversation with Cana, he eventually learned her last name-Alberona-and that she was in search for her father, who had run away to America. Loke saw her as a brave woman, traveling the sea alone, nearly broke, and the chance of failure was bigger than her opportunity at success. Yet, despite her circumstances, she still enjoyed a beer and an easygoing lifestyle.

"Tell me, why do you want to take the quick road from rags to riches?"

Gray had asked the same question before, and it felt like the answer had a different taste on his tongue the second time around. "Living in poverty is miserable, and it seems that I might as well utilize my way with words and marry someone wealthy." He couldn't let it just end at that. Sighing with self-disappointment, Loke added, "I don't want to be cheap and sleazy, and I know my way of thought isn't right, and even more, my chances are thin. In the end, I'll probably do what my friend is doing, but in reality, unlike him, I have no one to return to."

"You're a good guy," Cana said, finishing her third beer. Loke continuously paid, making her keep the promise of keeping her choices cheap. "You don't have to listen to me, but you should find love in someone you really value. It's not material wealth, but you'll be happier that way."

Running his hands through his layered hair, the strands fell back in his face as his hand moved back. Loke exhaled, feeling slightly intimidated and embarrassed. Cana added another question, wondering what his master plan was, and all Loke could explain was that he hoped to meet someone wealthy on the ship, convince them that it was love, and marry.

"Don't tell me that you were going to go through with it," Cana begged. Her cheeks were slightly pink and warm, but she was sober enough to know what she was talking about. Loke brushed off her earlier comment about being slightly an alcoholic. Cana Alberona was a heavy drinker.

He wasn't sure why he was trusting her with his personal information. He had never done it to anyone, excluding Gray, and he hadn't planned to share much details ever. He knew he would never confess the truth if he were to find the girl he was thinking of swaying, so why would he trust a stranger he knew so little about. It could be the whiskey talking, but he knew that sharing about himself was a bit of a personal relief. Even more, the girl was responding, voicing her opinion, and guiding him with advice. Gray had done the same before, but for some reason, the words that came out of a man who didn't tolerate love weren't all too persuasive.

"Probably not," he replied openly. "Like I said, I'm probably going to give up, find a job that I can barely tolerate, and then go back to France. Maybe I'll even consider finding love. _Real _love."

Cana smiled. "Good," she said. "You'll consider being a normal man."

Loke leaned back, finished off his mug of alcohol. Cana slipped behind the counter, grabbing another round of drinks, refilled his cup, topped her own off, and joined him again. As he raised the mu to his mouth, Cana reached over and tipped it up with her hand. He choked, flinching as some of the golden drink splashed onto his face, and turned to Cana with a watchful, more humorous eye. Quickly, he shot his hand over to knock the mug up in her hands, and the beer shot upwards, splashing onto her a bit. She turned to him, and they eyed one another out. Sarcastic smiles of tight lips and a raised brows made up their expressions, and before anything, Cana announced to him that she yearned to have a drinking contest with him.

"That wouldn't be very fair," Loke said, waving his hand dismissively. "You're the biggest alcoholic I know, and I've barely had any drinks in my life."

She rolled her eyes. "Man up," she demanded, topping their drinks once more. She didn't move from her seat, just reaching over the counter. He wondered if she planned on charging him for all of the alcohol that they drank and wasted, but it didn't seem like she was keeping track. "You can't lose a drinking game to a _woman_," she said as she teased him, making a sexist comment, when she knew that she didn't really mean it.

Exhaling in a passive, submissive way, Loke agreed. "Fine, fine… Only one drink, and we'll see who finishes first. I want to make it back to my room sober."

"What, do you think you'll get lost?" she said, cocking her brow. Truly, Loke felt mocked by her teasing tone and sarcastic remarks, but he enjoyed it. It was an easy and enjoyable conversation, and he didn't think that he could enjoy anything more at the time, and he was glad that he had left his room.

He had planned to stay in the room the entire night, relaxing, possibly reading a book or finding one way or another to distract him. Gray had left early that evening, possibly so that he could get some fresh air before leaving to the upper class. Natsu, who seemed too restless to sit in the room, wandered off to travel the ship. They both said goodbye, and Natsu promised to be back soon, but within an hour of sitting in one place, Loke grew bored. He didn't want to flirt, nor be alone. For the first time, he was enjoying quality time with a woman that didn't involve flirting.

Dismissing her earlier comment about him getting lost, the two raised their drinks to their lips, and called the mark to begin. He didn't want to lose, which would make him feel like a weak drinker and submissive, so he attempted to swallow the drink down quickly. As they both finished-Cana being a few seconds before-they let out loud sounds of them gasping for air and laughing at the same time. Before Cana could bring herself to say anything, Loke's ears instantly recognized the song that was being played, stood to his feet, and pulled Cana up with him.

It was festive music, and he felt tipsy enough for him to dance like an idiot in public. To the music, he spun Cana around, stepped in time with her, and made decent movements. Occasionally, one or the other would trip or stumble, or even bump against others who were dancing around them, but it was easily brushed off with laughter and more dancing.

Finishing his night with dancing with Cana, he begun to escort her to her room, conversation falling off their lips and slightly drunk chuckles. As she stepped into her dark room, they fell to whispers, and she turned around in the doorway, bidding him farewell. The two promised to see one another at the party the next night, and Loke walked to the back of the ship alone, a smile still stitched onto his face. It didn't leave until he slipped into the dreams that awaited him in his bed.

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><p><strong>AN: I've been wanting to write a chapter dedicated to Loke, and I finally stopped debating whether to introduce Cana or not, so as you now know, I decided to introduce her in! I do plan on having lots of Loke, Cana, and Gray brotp moments! Also, sorry for the chapter being shorter than normal! I hope that you guys will check out my new Jerza oneshot called, "The Underworld King!" I also have a oneshot Jerza fic coming out soon! Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter, and I look forward to hearing from you!**


	10. Broken Perceptions

Something about the night before was still a daze to Levy, and the night seemed glossed over in her memories. The thoughts of Lucy moving to America and having all of her hopes crushed settled uncomfortably in the back of her mind, but something persistent pushed through, making Levy think that there was still hope for her friend. She wanted nothing more than for Lucy's dreams for love and happiness to come true.

Lost in thought, she wandered the deck in the open air. She had tried to settle down for the morning, hoping to read a book throughout the day. She loved it when natural light could pour over the pages of a book. To her, it made reading more enjoyable, more natural, and more soothing. However, with her mind stirring and shaken, she couldn't sit in a chaise lounge to read, so she returned the book to its shelf to wander around in the sunlight.

The night before, after bidding Lucy farewell from the dinner, Levy had aimlessly wandered the halls of the _Titanic_. She wasn't yet prepared to go to bed, and she was still excited and thoughtful from her evening. She couldn't help but be curious to hear more about Natsu from Lucy, and wondered if their relationship would come to be love. At the same time, she was trembling from the idea that Lucy may never be able to return to Europe, and the two may have to part ways. Still yet, Levy forced herself to think hopeful thoughts for her friend, attempting to soothe her mind for the night.

As soon as she had finished wandering the halls for an hour, she had returned to her room, finally slipping into a dreamless sleep. After waking, she could tell her mind was still restless, but she had fallen asleep out of exhaustion. Forcing herself to crawl out of bed as daylight poured into her room's porthole, she readied herself, brushing her hair, and pulled it back with a ribbon as her headband. It was a look that suited her more than anything else, and she slipped into a simple dress for the day.

Still wandering the ship for what had seemed to be a few hours after breakfast, she finally felt heated by the sun. Wind still wrapped around her as the ship traveled across the deep blue, and for the beginning hours of the morning, it was a chilly temperature. As the effects of afternoon begun to settle, Levy finally felt decent.

A familiar sight caught her attention ahead, and she couldn't wipe the memory from her mind. His pretentious layered hair, the intense gaze that stared out over the ocean, and his thick build was hard to forget, and the familiar resentment towards him arose once more. Turning around, she refused to come across him again. She had only been teasing when she said that she would pester him until they arrived in America, but honestly, Levy wanted nothing more to do with Gajeel Redfox.

As she whirled around, she her eyes stared directly into the chest of another passenger. A man, dressed finely in a day suit, peered down at her, a glossy look in his eyes, a cigar in his hand, and a look of shock chiseled onto his mouth. He apologized, and Levy watched as his slightly parted lips rose up into a smile of curiosity.

"My, my," he said, taking a step back from Levy. He stared down at her, taking her in. She was simple, but cute. "What a cute lady I've come across," he said, puffing out the smoke of his cigar in a stream.

Growing awkward, Levy smiled up at him. "Um… Thank-you, sir. It means a lot, coming from a stranger," she said quietly, unsure of how to respond.

Extending his hand, he asked in a polite tone, "Do you mind joining me for a conversation in the shade? I'd like to get to know you, being that I'm curious as to why such an adorable lady should need to walk alone," he said, and in a quieter tone, he added, "on such a _romantic _ship."

She wasn't sure how to refuse, being that a stranger had never asked her of such a thing. She figured that the man wouldn't be too lewd in public, being that the ship offered shade in plain sight. Following him out of the sunlight, he asked her for her name immediately. In a way of speech that was guarded and reserved, Levy said so, listening to him as he droned on about how he loved her father's novels.

It wasn't a surprise that he would instantly recognize her name if he read the novels by her father. He always mentioned Levy in his author's notes and in his first novel after Levy was born, he named the heroine after her. It was Levy's favorite story in the end, and she vowed to her father that she would try to be like the way he had written her to be. She hadn't failed, after all.

Levy grew curious as the man mentioned a novel that she had favored, a book not written by her father, but one of her personal favorites. She had never met someone who had read the book, other than Lucy, of course, and couldn't help but discuss the topic with him. At some point, he mentioned a particular moment from the story, asked Levy for her hand, and begun to demonstrate the moment in real life. She had always wondered how the trick had been done, and if it was possible, and here, the man offered to show her how.

As he set his hand in her own, he moved the other quickly, and in a moment, a dove flew from Levy's hand. She flinched, watching as the bird vanished from her sight, and she turned to the man. Begging him to describe how the trick was done, he described them as dehydrated doves, and it was the simplest of all magic tricks.

Eventually, as the conversation resumed and escalated, the man found every opportunity to show Levy a trick, using her hand to give her a close-up demonstration. To an extent, she enjoyed being able to touch the trick, but after several presentations, he became slower at releasing her hand. After he lit another cigar and finished his "final trick" that he would show her in public, he pulled her forward, leaning in closer.

The smell of ashes and smoke filled Levy's nose, and she crinkled it in disgust. She hated the smell of cigars and ashes, so being so close to the releasing end of the cigar was disgusting. He invited her to join him in his room, and he promised to show her more fascinating tricks than the ones he had shown her before. Mistrusting, she refused the option, saying that she was scheduled to meet a friend. It was a lie, but it was better than trusting a man to take her into private.

"Oh, darling, I promise that I don't bite. I'm an entertainer myself, so I figured that I would show you some tricks, but I don't want too many people knowing how I do them."

Trying to avoid eye contact and take in more fresh air, she shook her head. "Sorry, but I have to refuse. Besides, if I know how the magic tricks work, then they're no longer magic. I'd prefer to be on the end that doesn't know."

Refusing to take no for an answer, he quickly gripped Levy's wrist. It wasn't too rough, but she knew better than to try to pull away. Something assertive and dark shone in his eyes, and Levy felt herself growing nervous. The crowd around her had thinned out, and she was too scared to yell for someone to help her. The man stared down at her, and what was worse was that she wasn't sure if he was really threatening her.

"It'll be quick, I _promise,_" he said, his eyes thinning out. Beginning to pull on her, he attempted to lead the way. Whispering, so his comment remained between him and Levy, he added, "Don't call for help, sweetheart," and Levy caught sight of a pistol for safety remaining in his coat pocket.

She knew the man wouldn't go to such drastic measures, but she didn't want to take her chance. Most men carried guns for personal safety, so it wasn't a rare sight, but the gun was being used as a threat to her. Levy swallowed, trying to not give in.

"Sir, I _really_ don't want to go," she said, her eyes pleading.

"You won't regret it," he promised. "Trust me."

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><p>Gajeel had been leaning against the railing for longer than he had planned, but he found that there was nothing better to do than to look out over the ocean. He, himself, was exhausted from playing music for passengers until early hours of the morning, and he hadn't crawled into his bed until four. He was forced to rise at half past six, and he couldn't help but find himself yearning for a glass of whiskey and a nap.<p>

His tongue slid across his fangs, his mouth watering at the thought of the _Titanic_'s whiskey. He had never had better, and the bootlegger alcohol in America wasn't worth the wait. He promised himself to drink as much as possible on the ship, not knowing when his next trip to somewhere without prohibition would be.

He swore that he saw the little blue-haired girl, but he wasn't sure. He only spotted her in the corner of his eye, and when he had turned to see if he should leave before he pestered her, she was gone. He imagined that he was paranoid, or there was the possibility that he was avoiding her. Either way, he didn't have to encounter her.

Growing bored and thirsty, Gajeel pried himself off of the railing, turning to find the nearest lounge to get a glass of alcohol. Wandering out in the open sun, he heard a familiar voice pleading and begging, and something about the situation made his gut tighten.

_"Sir, I _really_ don't want to go,"_ he heard over the sound of the ship.

Gajeel had always had sharp ears, and he was keen to the quietest of sounds. It helped him as a musician, and in some cases, as a street gangster. Turning around the corner, in the path of a doorway, he took in the sight of the blue-haired girl he had been so desperately trying to avoid and a man tugging on her arm. As he stared at them, Gajeel cocked a brow and the pulling man seemed shocked that someone had come across him.

Instantly, he took in the sight. The man's eyes were glossy, a mark of breathing in too much smoke and downing far too much alcohol, and he was dressed far too impressively to be a second class passenger. Immediately, Gajeel could assume he had gotten drunk at breakfast, gotten lost in the second class area, and was on the prowl for an easy lay.

"Yo," Gajeel snarled, thinning his crimson eyes at the man tugging on the girl's arm. He hadn't bothered to remember her name, and despite his want to avoid her, he wasn't going to let a man take advantage of her. "Let go of her wrist," he demanded, taking a step forward.

As fear flooded the man's eyes, he let pulled Levy in closer with a forceful yank, pulling the gun out of his coat pocket, he immediately pointed it at Gajeel in want of protection. The thug rolled his eyes, wondering if the man thought he would be afraid. As an American thug, he'd had hundreds of guns pointed directly at his head or heart before, and the threateners even had a more steady hand."

Baring his teeth in a wide smile, Gajeel asked, "What? Do you think that I'm going to eat you or something? Put the gun down and let go of the girl. I _don't_ want to make this something big." In a way, he was lying. He wanted to pick a fight, and he had been dying to do so since he stepped off of American turf. He would only give one warning, and then he would throw his fist.

The man, trembling, placed his hand on the trigger of the gun as Gajeel took a step forward. Within an instant, the American musician raced forward and punched him to the ground, grabbing ahold of the girl's wrist so that she wouldn't topple over with him. Gajeel stomped down on the man, threatening, "Don't even dare touch her, or any other woman on this ship, _again_."

Passengers in the hallway gasped, stopping in their places. Immediately, the crowd hustled and it became busy and loud. Crew members immediately came to the scene, finding Gajeel still stepping down on the man. They pulled him off as he shouted down at him, cuss words and threats spilling out of his mouth. The blue-haired girl covered her mouth, stumbling backwards as the crew pulled him off of the wealthier passenger.

One of the _Titanic_'s employees pulled out handcuffs for Gajeel, but she stepped forward, begging for them to stop. "Please, don't arrest him. He was protecting me," she said, pressing her hands to Gajeel's arm, assuring the crew that she trusted him. Gajeel shot a look at her, curiosity and wonder flooding his piercing stare.

Through a slightly heavy moment and conversation, the girl managed to persuade the crew that he was protecting Levy, and they swept the other man up for medical attention. Left alone with Gajeel, she looked up to him, wondering why he had helped her.

"What's your name again, shorty?"

"Levy McGarden," she said, her eyes shifting nervously. She was expecting a sly and rude remark, but instead, he plopped his hand on her shoulder, thanking her for backing him up. Nodding, she replied that she had owed him, and attempted to dismiss herself. As Gajeel trailed behind her, she spun around to ask him why he was following her.

"I'm just going to make sure that you stick out of trouble," he said, his stare demanding that she not refuse. Sighing in defeat, Levy wondered what she had gotten herself into.

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><p><strong>AN: Guess what, guys! It's finally Christmas week, so there's two chapters this week! I hope that you enjoyed this Christmas and chapter, and I hope you enjoy the next one! Happy holidays!**


	11. Pursuing Bad Luck

Up until her stepping onto the _Titanic_, it always seemed as though bad luck followed her. She had never felt true love, never maintained friendships, and it seemed that the rain followed her wherever she went. Yet, on the ship of dreams, there was no rain and no heartbreak. Instead, she felt joyous, her heart still fluttering from her encounter with Gray, and Juvia couldn't stop herself from feeling so happily flustered.

She was still under the blankets of her bed, still savoring her dream from the night. Peering out of the porthole that was visible from where she lay, she took in the sight of the clear blue sky and felt her body heat up as she recalled her night with Gray. She wasn't sure when the last time she felt so happy was, but she knew not to take advantage of it. It was as if she could still feel the place where he had kissed her hand as they parted ways in her doorway, and she swore that she could hear his voice in her ears.

Rolling over to peek at the grandfather clock that stood in the corner of the bedroom, she happily pulled herself out of the bed to ready herself. The night before, Juvia reminded herself as motivation, Gray promised that he would meet her on the first class promenade to take a stroll with her in the morning. He set the time for after breakfast, and to Juvia's slight dismay, she woke up past the time. She assumed that her father knew she returned to the room late and let her rest, and the butler had left a tray of treats and tea for her when she woke.

Struggling to dress herself, she placed her familiar sunhat on her head, peering in the mirror. Her eyes were brighter than normal, and she couldn't wipe the smile off of her face. She felt hopeful, padding her makeup onto her cheeks. Quickly, she treated herself to a cup of tea as she fixed the astray hairs on her head. Checking her smile, she then motivated herself in the mirror.

Juvia's eyes trailed over to her bag that remained unpacked. She knew that she had only brought it to remind herself that she was hurting, a constant reminder to herself that she didn't have a reason to be happy. However, her sadness floated away, and what was inside of the bag was there for her happiness instead. She lifted it to the bed, opening it, and removed the photograph of Gray. Seeing him in person was so much more, and the photo lacked a smile, but the night before, she had caught glimpses of it, and he occasionally tried to mask his grins. He would look away or tilt his head down, averting his navy blue eyes.

Removing another object from the bag, she took the ring out that was used as the oath for engagement. Gray himself hadn't chosen it, nor had he given it to her, but she still used it as a reminder of him and what could have been. Closing her hand over it, she knew that she no longer needed it, and planned to give it to the rightful family. She planned to give him the ring back so that he could pawn it for money, so that she could assist him after his lost riches. Slipping the blue diamond ring over her finger, she placed the photo back inside of her bag, and slipped out of the room.

Wandering up to the top deck, her cheeks went from warm to hot. As she stepped out onto hurricane deck, feeling the open air caress her cheeks, she assured herself that she was standing in the right area of the promenade deck. Moving closer to the railing, she peered in both directions, searching for the familiar face in the crowd of saunterers. In anticipation, she ran her hand over the ring, biting her lip. She wasn't sure if she was nervous or if it was adrenaline, being that she had done so well with him the night before.

Too eager to continue to search the crowd, she sought peace on the ocean. Just as the previous days were, the ocean waves were calm and the voyage was smooth. The air was slightly chilly, but in the process of being warmed. It wasn't uncommon for amblers to stop their leisurely walk to peer out over the water and take in the sight. Juvia wasn't an exception, being that each time she had gone to the open deck for air or for her stroll, she needed to take in the sight. She wasn't sure when the next time that she would see something so calming, so she wanted to take it in as much as she could.

Savoring the moment was her main goal on the _Titanic_. She wanted to savor and appreciate everything, which became clear the moment that she didn't feel the emotional weight on her chest. She was so grateful that she had gone to the back deck as she explored the trip, seeing Gray in the flesh for the first time. Her heart stumbled and her gut tightened, her thoughts becoming flustered. She wasn't too sure if it was really him, but she had hurried back to her room to see if the letter would arrive to anyone, and it had.

Lost in thought, a cool, calm voice came from behind her. "Juvia," it said.

Shooting to stand up straight, her body electrified with chills. Spinning around, she smiled once more, taking in the sight of Gray. He had managed to find another neat and casual suit, his hair still tousled and falling in his face. It was a look that suited him, and he held out his arm for her to take it after she greeted him. He wasn't hesitant to start their stroll, possibly being that he may have had plans later in the day.

It started off quiet, Juvia taking the cool aura that he gave off. Eventually, he spoke first, starting up conversation. "How are you enjoying the trip?" he asked casually, his eyes straying to look at her in the corner of his vision. Gray was too focused on walking forward to turn his head, helping Juvia to avoid other passengers who passed by.

"Oh, w-well… It's going rather well… I haven't done much socializing, but I look forward to making dinner conversations when I can," she said optimistically. "It's been a nice trip, however," her mind straying back to the night before, and her cheeks grew hot once more. "W-what about you?" she asked, hoping to let her mind wander more.

He bit his lip as he thought. "Well, a friend of mine and I got on the ship together, and we're sharing a room with a motion sick idiot from Ireland. I haven't done much socializing either, but it seems that my roommates are." In a short thought, he wondered what had happened to his fourth roommate. He figured that the guy had been banned from boarding because of a disease or lice. Turning his head to Juvia for a short second, he begged, "Tell me about your trip in more detail."

"I… Well, I boarded in France, of course, and I'm on the trip with my father only. My mother wanted to stay behind, and I'm coming just to take my mind off of some things. We're going to America so that my father can expand his banks," she said, nervous about what to say or not.

There was no sign of jealousy or sadness in his eyes, but a smile. "Hmph," escaped his throat as he shrugged. "I'm not surprised that there's more people travelling to America for money."

"Mr. Fullbuster?"

"Gray," he corrected. "Just call me Gray," he said down to her. It was an act of kindness and familiarity, and it made Juvia's heart flutter in her chest even more.

"Right, _Gray,_" she said, having a bit of trouble calling him by his first name, despite she called him by his first name in her thoughts. "Why are you traveling to America?" she asked, hoping that she didn't hit a nerve. His arm tightened in shock, and she felt it as her arm was looped through his.

"I'm hoping to earn the money back that my family lost. I'm doing it alone, but I'm not going to give up." He didn't make eye contact, but she could see the fierce look in his eyes as he stared forward. He was still calm and collected, but she could feel his passion and determination.

Smiling at his braveness, Gray pulled her closer, bring his arm closer to his body and her arm was enclosed between his bicep and side. Drawing herself closer to Gray, Juvia took in a sharp breath, her hands slightly trembling as she grew more and more awkward. She had figured that she would only be so close to him if she had married him, and to some extent, she didn't really expect her to ever be this close to him for leisure.

"I think that you're brave," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear over the hustle and bustle of the the ship.

He nudged her a bit, chuckling to himself. "I'm a workaholic," he joked. "That's nothing to be proud of."

"Oh, maybe not that, but you have ambition and a goal, two things that go hand-in-hand. You're braving the unknown to earn back what you lost, and you're doing it alone, in a way," she said, flattering him.

Gray exhaled audibly, smiling at her compliments. He thanked her, something in his heart fluttering a bit. It was an odd, likable feeling, but he wanted to brush it off. He didn't want to find comfort in Juvia's presence, or feel a connection to her, because that were the warning signs for danger. He was surrounded by romance as a child, so he figured that he would like it. He loved seeing the passion that his parents had for one another, but to him, romance was a distraction.

Reminding herself of the presence of the ring, she pulled Gray to a stop. Removing themselves from the walkway, Juvia looked down to her hand to fiddle the ring off. Extending her hand, she looked up to Gray with nervous, pleading eyes. "This is the engagement ring that was given to me, and I want you to have it back," she said. "It's worth a lot of money, and I think that you could sell or pawn it."

Gray moved his hands towards hers, but instead of taking the ring, which Juvia expected, he pushed her hands back down. "I don't want outside help, and it's your ring now." He remembered his parents showing him the ring, asking him if he thought it would be nice. He barely spared a glance at it, nodding, and then resumed to his work. He couldn't spare the time to encourage love or make the woman he had been arranged to think he loved her. "It wouldn't be right," he said to her, still refusing to take the ring as he saw the pleading look in her lazule eyes.

Juvia shook her head, insisting that he take it. "Please, Gray, take it from me. I don't have much use for it, and I would _really_ like to help you," she said, taking his hand in hopes that he would open it up for her. His closed fists were gripped tight, and all she could do was gently place her hands over his, still holding the ring for him to take.

"_Juvia,_" he said in a growl. "Keep it."

She watched his eyes narrow, and she flinched. She pursed her lips shut in shame, averting her eyes. Distress filled her heart, and she begun to wonder if she had made the wrong choice. She grew hesitant and regretful. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she nodded.

Thoughts flooded his head, his brain reminding him of how Juvia made him feel. She was too kind, too caring, too _alluring_, and Gray's thoughts bent until he snapped. "Do you think that you'll get me to fall in love with you!? Do you expect me to drop my pride and accept help, or just marry you? That's _over_, Juvia! There's _nothing_ for us!"

His words hit her like a brick wall, and she couldn't withhold her tears. She swore that if she was still in France, the rain would have begun to fall. She was the Rain Woman, after all, and the storms followed her wherever she went. Instead of rain falling, her tears streamed down her cheek, and she dropped the ring to the wooden deck. As Gray came to his senses on what he had said and done, Juvia pushed past him and fled from him.

Kneeling down, he silently cursed at himself as he felt the stares of the other passengers jabbing into his back like judging needles. Taking the ring between his fingers, he toyed with it a bit, peering at the blue diamond that was perfectly set in it. They matched the same shade of Juvia's eyes, but as he looked up to call after her, she was long gone.

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><p><strong>AN: The Gruvia relationship is a complicated one, yes? This was a hard chapter for me to write, because I highly dislike seeing Gray when he's rude to Juvia, but it's a part of his personality, and it makes his kindness worth it. This relationship might have some turmoil in the future, so expect it! Anyways, once again, I look forward to hearing what you thought and please, I beg of you guys to share this fanfic with people who love Fairy Tail! Thank-you! Once again, happy holidays!**


	12. Management and Advice

Gathering herself together, Lucy stared at the woman across the room. She had just finished her post-breakfast socializing with her family and friends, but there was the one woman that she couldn't stop thinking about introducing herself to. In a crowd, the particular woman that Lucy wanted to meet stood out. She always had glamourous dresses, her hair always was done up in a unique fashion, and her hats were always placed on her head with beautiful designs to bring out the features of her body and face. Even more, her scarlet hair stood out more than anything, a feature that was for the Scarlet family alone.

Once again, for her third day on the ship, Lucy dismissed herself from her family. Her mind was still racing from the day before, thinking about Natsu and their planned dinner, as well as what Levy had said… She needed to tell her mother, at the least, about the third class passenger, but she wasn't sure if she could bring herself to do it. In a way, Lucy hoped that she could bring it to Erza Scarlet at some point in their conversation, hoping that she would have some input. While wandering the ship and visiting the rooms, Lucy occasionally spotted Erza with her butler, but the two seemed more like friends than family head and her butler.

Quickly, Lucy swept the bangs out of her eyes and fixed them. Taking quick steps towards the unoccupied woman, she hoped that she looked more graceful than she felt. As she approached Erza, her greeting came out a bit hesitant and lame. She had heard so much about her, and the last thing that she wanted to do in front of the fashion designer was to stutter and embarrass herself.

"He-hello, I'm… Erza… Lucy…"

Erza's brown eyes shifted towards Lucy, a pursed lip smile stretching across her face. There were traces of pink below the woman's brown eyes, hinting that she was trying to stop herself from giggling. Erza nodded, tipping her head and extended her hand. Lucy had never shaken hands with a woman before, seeing the slight tomboy part of Erza coming out. "Well, you're Lucy Heartfilia, am I correct?"

Lucy nodded, smiling with her teeth. She wasn't too ashamed to show that she was awkward anymore, being that Erza offered a warm and strong aura. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Scarlet," Lucy said, finishing her handshake with her. "I've looked forward to meeting you since I found out that you would be on the _Titanic._" It wasn't a lie at all.

"Well, I looked forward to meeting you as well, and it _is_ a pleasure to meet you. Do you mind if I call you by your first name, and you could do the same for me? We _are_ the same age, after all," Erza said, slightly sweeping her bangs out of her right eye.

As Lucy was in awe of the way Erza's eyes shined under the lights of the chandeliers, she took notice to how Erza's left eye seemed a bit different in color. It was paler, duller, but the difference was almost impossible to see if the person lacked a keen eye. Acting as though she saw nothing, Lucy smiled. "Of course," she said. "I wouldn't mind at all."

Erza invited Lucy for a stroll on the promenade, saying that the room felt to cramped. The conversation as they strolled carried out easily. Lucy was in awe as Erza told her about why she was traveling to America, as well as how she was excited to show her servants-which she called her friends-a new world. It was new to see someone who treated her lowers with equal respect, and Lucy even took note to how often Erza mentioned her butler's name. She took another mental note on their closeness as friends.

When Lucy was asked for her own story about why she was traveling on the _Titanic_, she became weary. She was unsure if she should confess the truth, and if felt as though her heart sped up and she was falling-the rush of fear swallowing her whole. As she took a sharp inhale, Erza shot a look of worry at her. "You don't need to tell me," she reassured. "If it's not a positive reason, I'd be happy to give my input or help you."

Lucy peered at her, still moving at the same pace. "No, no… I wouldn't want to pester you with my prob-"

Erza scoffed. "There's no way that your problems could pester me," she said, waving her hand in dismissal. "Do share, Miss Lucy. I'm interested now."

Unsure where to begin, Lucy filled Erza in on the details. She shared about how her parents handed the tickets for the ship to her, which had gotten Lucy excited, but along with the present came the flaw. Her mother, trying to ease the news onto her with subtle hints, was interrupted by Jude, who gave Lucy the news of Evan, and how it felt as though she was forced into a locked cage. As she rambled, she didn't notice that she mentioned that it felt as though Natsu was the perfect guy for her. In fact, she didn't even notice that she had mentioned him in the first place.

"I mean, if I'm supposed to marry this Evan guy, how am I supposed to know if my name is going to sound stupid with his surname if I don't even know what it is?" Lucy exclaimed, turning to Erza. Seeing her look of self-satisfaction, Lucy immediately shut up.

"You have a crush on a third class passenger?" Erza said, her smile still on her face. The people who passed by paid no attention, to Lucy's relief. She especially didn't want her parents catching wind of such a thing.

Lucy shushed Erza in a panicked way. "I can't have anyone knowing that!" She pursed her lips, looking around in search of a distraction. "I want to tell my mother, at least, but I don't know how. I have plans with him tonight, which is okay with my family. They think that I just want to be alone, and they probably just think I'm being so withdrawn because I'm upset about my engagement."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

The smile that was on Erza's lips grew wider. "I think that you should see how deep in love you actually are with this Natsu boy," she suggested. "See if he's worth the time, worth more, and worth falling in love with. If he meets those standards, then he's worth mentioning. Do you see where I'm coming from? No matter what, there's nothing that the world can do to stop two people from falling in love," Erza said, her input worth more to Lucy than anything at the moment.

Agreeing to what Erza had said, they came to the turn at the front of the ship. Erza turned her head to where she had been standing with Jellal the night before. Something in her heart clenched, and she smiled. Quickly, it left before it had gotten comfortable on her lips. She took note of a single person, tears rolling down their cheeks and their eyes swollen with regret and sadness.

Taking Lucy by the wrist abruptly, Erza led her comrade in the direction of the crying girl. The girl had slipped down to her knees, unable to stand as she wept. Before she noticed the two approaching strangers, Erza knelt down in front of her, unashamed of the watchful eyes.

"You're Juvia Lockser, am I correct?"

The girl looked up, her sunhat lopsided on her head and her makeup smudged. She nodded, and before she could say anything, Erza swept the hair from her face and wiped the falling tears with her finger. Erza put on a reassuring smile for Juvia, and Lucy stared downwards at the two, hoping that her presence could be reassuring in any way for the crying stranger.

In soft wails and sobs, Juvia told the two about why she was crying. She was forced to recall the horrible memories of how Gray had yelled at her, but for once, she wasn't afraid to speak about how she felt. There was a comforting aura that was given off from the two women in front of her, and when the two offered their hands to hold for comfort and security, Juvia began to cry more. Tears of happiness and relief mingled.

As Erza had done the same for Lucy, she offered her own advice for Juvia's situation. This time, Erza suggested that everything would turn out fine, and if the man she was in love with didn't return, he was never worth her time. Erza also promised her that there was love for everyone in the world, just as long as they reached out for it. Juvia nodded, her tears finally stopping.

She had held back on sharing about how he was Gray Fullbuster, the son from the family that had lost all of their money. She also didn't mention that she had been arranged to marry him before, figuring that both pieces of information didn't matter. At the same time, Erza put what she had found out together, also saying, "This Gray fellow sounds a bit unpredictable. He was calm, cool, collected, then he turned into a sweet and kind gentleman, and there was a quick change in personality to quite the jackass," Erza evaluated, making Juvia smile a bit.

"I'm not sure what I did wrong…" Juvia muttered, looking up to the blonde beside Erza.

Lucy knelt down beside Erza, letting go of Juvia's hand. "It doesn't seem like you did anything. I think that he was going through problems of his own, and lashed out at you for no reason. Don't let it bother you," Lucy said, fixing locks of Juvia's hair.

Accepting what both of them had to say, Juvia sniffled. She wondered what had hurt her so much… She wondered if it was because Gray had removed all possibilities of love, or if it was because he snapped at her for no reason. Knowing herself, she was probably sobbing for the reason of love, and she felt truly ridiculous.

* * *

><p>Eternal guilt settled in his heart and mind, and it had been pestering him the whole morning. He felt weird, an unusual feeling weighing his heart down. After his incident with Juvia, Gray stood on the deck for several minutes. He toyed with the ring in his hand, then returned to his room, in the class that he rightfully belonged in. Natsu had still been asleep, but the idiot stirred and kicked, marking that he was restless and awake. Loke, as well, was still asleep. He'd gotten into the room before Gray the night before, but he didn't have a reason to wake yet.<p>

In distraught, Gray threw off his coat, watching it hit his bed. Unconsciously, he undid his shirt, and collapsed onto his bed. Burying his face in his pillow, he wondered why he felt any guilt in the first place, and he continued to roll the ring in his fingers. The bunk shook and trembled underneath him as he collided with the bed, and Loke let out a loud groan of disturbance on the bed above him.

With his face still in the pillow, Gray's reply was muffled. "Shut up, you lazy ass," he said, then rolled over onto his back.

"You don't need to be such a grouch," Loke replied, moving and shifting so that he could hang over the edge of the bunk. Looking down on Gray, he raised a brow and eyed the shimmering piece in Gray's hand. "Where'd the ring come from? I thought you only had that pocketwatch."

Growling, Gray shot Loke a look that signaled it was none of his business. Loke pursed his lip, raising his brow in agreement that he saw nothing. His head vanished, and the flirt dropped down onto the ground, and he steadied himself. He still felt slightly exhausted from his dancing in the makeshift bar, and as he groomed himself, he brought it up to Gray.

"It's in the same room that the party is going to be held in, tonight," Loke said, shaking his hair out. Discarding his rest clothes, he pulled on decent slacks and a button-down shirt, leaving the suspenders to hang down. He took notice that Gray had discarded his shirt, a habit the male had adapted from stress, and he shook it off.

Gray remained silent as he sat up to sit on the edge of the bed. Loke turned around, questioning, "Are you planning on attending?"

A shrug rolled off of Gray's shoulders. He wasn't sure if he had the energy or motivation to attend a night event. He already felt worn out from his conflict with Juvia, and he hadn't yet brought it up to Loke that he had gone up to first class for a morning stroll with the same girl. As Loke opened his mouth to ask about his dinner with the first class maiden, he saw the glare in the mirror, and he stopped himself before he said anything.

"You're being hostile today," Loke noted. There was no pacing room for him to walk back and forth, to and fro, so he was forced to distract himself by fixing wrinkles in his clothes and hairs that had gone askew.

"It's about the girl from last night… and this morning."

Loke's heart stuttered, and he spun around. "You saw her _twice_!?" He'd never even heard of Gray being a charming sir, nor one to go on what could be considered a second date. He was more of one for one-time things. "How out-of-character for you," Loke taunted.

"Shut it," Gray snapped. "I was being nice, especially since she was apparently the girl I was arranged to marry. I didn't know at first, but after she brought it up, it all came back to me. I felt bad, so offered to walk with her after breakfast, so I did. She handed me her ring after we did some talking, and she wanted me to sell it to help me."

"You're mad, _why_?" Loke asked. He would have taken Juvia in his arms in that moment, but of course, Gray was far different from the playboy.

"I don't know. I snapped at her, shouting something about me not falling in love with her. I don't even know where it came from, like, it just came out of my mouth. I made her cry-"

"And she ran off, and you didn't chase after her?"

Gray cocked a brow. "How'd you know?"

Loke shrugged, leaning against the dresser. "You're too predictable, and you definitely wouldn't be Gray Fullbuster if you went after her."

He opposed so, unsure if "Gray Fullbuster" was a man worth being. The guilt still weighed down his heart, and he begun to doubt himself. He doubted his attitude, his personality, and how he made himself feel about Juvia Lockser.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the late posting, everyone! I finally overcame my writer's block, so I'll give you all an extra chapter this week! This one was just another chapter to reflect the complications of Gray and Juvia! Gray is extremely unpredictable, so I really wanted to put that out there in this chapter. I'm also glad that Erza, Juvia, and Lucy have all met one another now, and everything is beginning to unfold beautifully, I think! Please, once again, I ask you to share this fanfic and leave a review, and tell me what you think! I love to hear feedback, and if you have any thoughts or questions, do feel free to tell/ask me!**


	13. Shelves and Melodies

There was a light tapping that continued to sound from under the table. It was quick, impatient, and irritable. As it continued on, she struggled to ignore it, but eventually, her hand slipped over his, her eyes refraining from leaving the words of her book, and she shook her head, a silent plea for him to stop. He let out a gruff noise, and the sound was hushed to a minimum. He was still tapping his foot in an anxious way, but it was quiet.

Levy's lips lifted to a smile. Pulling her hand away from his, she held both covers of the book in her hand. She continued to be amazed by how many stories the _Titanic_ had that she had never read or heard of, so she wondered if she could purchase them from the company while she was aboard. The words were written in Latin, a language she was quickly growing fluent in, and it flowed as though it were a poem.

Beside her, Gajeel impatiently ran his hand through the layers of hair, eyeing the library around him. It was quiet, as people were lost in their books or doing a silent activity. He'd never been in such a quiet place, being that the sound of people or music seemed to follow him wherever he went. The men who employed him for the ship said that he would only play music at night, being that jazz suited the dark hours more. Of course, Gajeel didn't argue, being that it meant he could sleep in and spend the day doing as he pleased. On the other hand, he hadn't planned on following around a little bookworm.

Hours had passed,-three at the most-and he became more aware of how patient she was. It tested him, making him grow needy for open air and a walk around the ship, but reminded himself that he didn't trust the frail girl alone. Still, he felt some resentment and hostility towards her, and she occasionally grew irritated of his remarks, but she continued to smile and refused to lash back at him. Gajeel wasn't used to the kindness and restraint that Levy had, being that he'd been in his fair share of fights and had put himself through his own personal torture. Being around her was leisurely, but he also didn't trust her kindness.

Breaking the silence once more, Gajeel pushed the chair back as he stood. It scraped against the ground, disturbing Levy's concentration. She looked up to see where the musician was going, and her chocolate eyes followed him as he moved towards the windows. He pushed himself against the wall, peering out at whatever he could see. He hadn't gotten up from the seat since the two had sat down, but at this point, Levy figured that he would break.

"You don't have to stay by me anymore," she said, setting the book down. She placed her hand over the binding, preventing the wind from making her lose her page. His eyes flicked towards her, his head refusing to turn. He shook his head, and he let out a silent grunt. _Of all the times he chooses to be quiet…_

As minutes begun to pass, Levy had returned to her book. Growing bored of the view, Gajeel shifted his place, pacing around the library. As he grew more bored, his hands occasionally found their way onto the shelves for books, pulling them out. He found books in foreign languages, poems, letters, novels, and even a book that matched up to Levy's last name. Growing intrigued, he flipped through it, the edges of the pages lined in gold. The font was simple, but sophisticated, and the writing style was a mixture of casual and formal.

Staring down at the book, he found a single character named after the girl he felt the need to protect, and he discovered it was from before she could have been born. Without looking up from the pages, he strides over to Levy, then dropped it down in front of her, closing it.

The sound of it slamming against the table startled her. Dropping her Latin novel, she looked to what Gajeel had put down. His crimson eyes stared at her, expecting some sort of an explanation. Grabbing the book from under his big fingers, she slid it towards herself. She read the title silently, and her eyes glazed over her father's name. A surge of warmth and happiness flooded herself, being that her father's novel was being featured on the _Titanic._ It was the one he had written from before she was born, and her name had come out of it. She skimmed the pages, wondering when the last time she had read it was.

"How did you find this?" she asked, looking up to him.

Shrugging, his gruff voice finally left his throat. "I was looking through the shelves, and I saw your name." Levy didn't have to look down to the book to remember how McGarden was written in gold, set on a royal blue cover. She took it in her fingers, handed it back to him, and a smile lifted on her lips.

"You should read it. My father wrote it for me before I was born, and he wrote about the adventures he wanted me to have," she said, watching him take it.

A look of distraught and disbelief made Gajeel raise his brow. He slipped back down into his chair and opened the book. He was unsure if it was a worthy read, or if he would even be able to keep track of the events. He had never come to good terms with a book, but for some reason, for the pipsqueak, he was willing to try. His eyes settled down on the first word, and in that moment, for the next two hours, he was lost.

* * *

><p>Levy closed her book, glancing at the clock. It read out an hour past noon, and she could see that her American companion was still lost in her father's book. She reread the last sentence of her book, chanting it in her head and making it her manta. It was her favorite, and she replaced it on the shelf where it belonged. Skimming the titles of other books, which she mostly recognized, she turned to Gajeel, who was nearing the end of the book.<p>

It was a short novel, intended more for Levy-if she was an avid reader-to read as a child. It was just shy of two hundred pages, and it shouldn't have taken anyone too long to read. The American man seemed to be struggling with foreign terms and harsh vocabulary, which had been meant to test Levy to the extreme. She evaluated him as he finished up the last few pages, and the humble smile rose up on her lips once more.

Gajeel leaned back in his seat, closing the book. He turned his head to Levy; a look that was impossible to read was etched on his face. Finding him impossible to read, Levy finally brought herself to ask, "What is it?"

"You're exactly like how he wrote you. That's weird," he said, frankly. "If you hadn't been born, then how did he write you so perfectly?"

Looking at him with a furrowed brow and a cocky smile, Levy crossed her arms. "Did you like it?" He remained silent, waiting for her answer. "Admit it: Reading the book made you like me _just a smidge_ more."

Gajeel shrugged. It was enough. "Well, I used the Levy in the story as my childhood role model, and I decided to model myself after her. I've finally reached the point in my life where I can continue the story, and have my own adventures, so here I am," she said, frilling her skirt.

"I'll return the book for you," she said, reaching for it.

Gajeel swept it up with his own hands, pulling it out of her reach. Lifting it over his head and waving it around so she couldn't get ahold of it, he chuckled as she fell into his trap. He glanced around the library, seeing that it was empty for the moment. Continuing to wave it, he leaned back farther, leaning in the chair. Levy pressed against him, and he waved it a single more time.

And then the chair slipped.

Falling backwards, Gajeel prepped himself to collide with the ground. A let out a noise of despair, closing his eyes in preparation. Levy shrieked, falling upon Gajeel as his chair back hit the ground, and she found herself on him in an awkward position while straddling him. Opening her eyes as she felt the dull pain, she took in the smell of his cologne and shot upwards, forcing herself up with her hands to his chest.

Gasping as she forced him downwards once more, it felt as though Gajeel had missed two intakes for air. He'd gotten the wind knocked out of him as he collided with the floor, and even more, the little female on him forced it out of him again. He looked up to her with eyes that were flooded with pain, watching her panic as she stood up from his body.

Fixing her skirt, she apologized, picking the book up from the ground. As he stood once more, she turned to him from the aisle, stating, "You shouldn't have gone and teased me with the book. It was childish!"

"Your response was pretty childish," Gajeel joked, propping the chair back onto its proper four legs. He approached Levy, poking her in the side of the head. She stumbled for a moment, regained her balance, and then hit him with the book.

Wincing, he added a decent chuckle as he came up behind Levy and propped an arm on her head. Her askew locks of hair fluffed up around his thick forearm, and she withdrew a bit under his weight. Coming in closer from behind, he rested his chin on his arm, letting out a loud, tired groan. Levy stiffened beneath him, waiting for his wait to be relieved, but in a way, she liked the excess warmth that he gave off and how soothing his presence was-in a way.

Levy slid the book back into the slot that remained empty for it. Gajeel shifted his feet, his weight moving around on her head. Slipping out from under him, she took his wrist in one of her small hands, asking him if he would be willing to try dancing with him. She knew the perfect location that was secluded and had a record player, and she wanted to try dancing with someone. A distraught, twisted look came on his face, but as he continued to peer down into her big eyes, he gave in with a loud groan of submission. He leaned his head back as the sound of his grumbling grew lower, and Levy pushed on his chest, then resumed to tug on his arm to lead the way.

Only then, on the way to the secluded room, had Gajeel noticed that the two of them missed lunch. Surprisingly, he hadn't heard the sound of the bell, nor had Levy. It was odd, being that he would never miss a meal, and he had sharp hearing. He glanced into the dining hall for the second class passengers, expecting his stomach to rumble. It didn't. He contemplated if he was enjoying Levy's company, but he tried to shoo the idea away because he wanted to think of her as a pest.

Tugging Gajeel into a room, a smug smile lifted the corners of Levy's lips. A simple phonograph was playing a tune in the corner of the room, and there were no people to disturb their privacy. Turning to evaluate Gajeel, Levy figured the man hadn't danced a single time in his life. He was more of the musician, so he didn't have the time or opportunity, and even more, it wasn't his style. Either way, Levy would _make_ him dance.

"Why are we here, squirt?"

Letting go of his wrist, she stepped around him to straighten his back and fix his posture. As she adjusted his hands for one to rest on her waist and the other to take her hand, she moved to reach her free arm around his neck. As he was too tall, she gave up, sufficing with part of her forearm. "You like music, so I thought I would experiment and test your limits. Besides, this is more along your line of skills," she said, teasing him. He knew that she knew he couldn't dance. He was mocking her.

"I haven't danced before," he confessed.

Levy shrugged, taking a step forward. It forced Gajeel to step backwards, and he immediately knew what she was doing. "I'll teach you simple steps," she replied, continuing the steps that forced him to move backwards. It kept him on his toes, forcing him to keep in time with the movements that Levy decided on, and eventually, she begun to rotate the two, making large circles in the room, sweeping across the floor.

Disgusted with how he was letting Levy lead, Gajeel braced himself to guide her. Steping towards her, she was set off balance for a moment, seeing where the American man would take her. He struggled to put together moves he had seen dancing couples do in Europe, taking big steps, swaying, and even smaller steps. Experimenting, he let go of Levy's hip, pulled out of her reach, and spun her around with his hand that was entangled in her fingers.

The entire time, he couldn't help but stare down at her, wondering what she was thinking. The same, familiar smile was plastered on her lips, and her eyes looked up at him that said she was impressed with his quick learning. The brown orbs were full of wonder, her cheeks flushed and pink, and a smile of his own trembled up onto Gajeel's lips. Taking note of it immediately, Levy's smile widened enough for her to show teeth, and he forced back his familiar frown.

"You smiled."

"Shut up."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I am so, so pleased with this chapter! Writing it, I couldn't help but smile. I hope I hinted at Gajeel's character development well enough in this chapter, being that you can now see Levy growing on him! It seems that Gajevy is getting the most love in this story so far, or maybe even Jerza, but fret not, because Gruvia and Nalu have a lot of developing left to do before the climax!**

**I love, love, **_**love**_** hearing from you guys and what you have to say! I may have said this already, but I **_**really**_** want to make this story big… I'm putting my heart and soul into this, and I really want the Fairy Tail world/fandom to enjoy it and read it! So, I would love it if you guys could help me! Please, make some art for me, because I would love to see how you guys envision everything, and post it on Tumblr with the tag ****#Breaking the Boundary**** and it would mean so much if you would also spread the word about this story! I'm doing my best to promote it, make it better!**

**I'm still mourning over the events in chapter 414, so please do expect a chapter dedicated to Natsu's past sometime in the near future! Thank-you, all! I hope that you enjoyed this!**


	14. Emotional Suffering

The night before was a mistake.

Jellal peered over the edge of the ship, exhaling audibly. He had fled from the dining room, whispering to Erza that he felt a bit lightheaded. He assumed that it was the nauseous feeling that the ship was giving him, but he knew it wasn't that alone. He'd never gotten sick on a ship before, and he'd ridden them many times whenever he followed Erza onto a boat while she had lunch with a specific friend. The waves never bothered him, so he knew that the sick feeling was coming from the night before.

He loved it. The moments he had with Erza on the deck were lovely, and he couldn't get them to leave his mind. What he kept on recalling was the feeling of Erza's hands running across his face, and the way her brown eyes shifted and shone brightly under the moonlight. Despite this, he felt terrible-like a monster. The hideous mark on his face reminded her of memories that she refused to speak of. She'd been asked by interviewers as a child, after the events, but she hadn't mumbled a single word about how she felt, or the events that happened. Something about his blood ran cold, and he choked on the despair that was rising in his throat.

To pass the time, Jellal paced. He constantly relayed between the spot on the deck, which officially seemed like his own, and the suite that Erza and the other servants were residing in. He took quick, worried steps through the hallways, his mind lost in everything that involved the scarlet-haired maiden. He conquered the Grand Staircase several times, walking up and down the glorious halls and steps that were intricately designed. He knew that he would have returned to Erza immediately, as soon as the air calmed his nerves, but she had granted him as much time as he needed, to spend some time to himself, and that he could meet her in the suite later that day. He had taken the chance to peek back into the dining hall once, but she was talking to another female passenger, and she seemed far too busy to deal with Jellal.

As his legs grew tired and crewmembers grew weary of Jellal's pacing and his lack of wealthy attire, he stopped at the split in the Grand Staircase. He peered at the clock in front of him, reading the time, and contemplated if he should return to the suite then. It was past noon, and his thoughts were exhausted. Unsure if he could urge himself to think another thought of how he would apologize to Miss Scarlet, he turned to return to his spot on the deck.

The afternoon crowd had already started, being that the first class passengers were taking their strolls after lunch. He slipped between openings of people, then gripped the railing, looking down the watch the water slosh against the side of the ship. Hearing the familiar click of Erza's heels amongst the others, he looked up, his brown eyes searching the crowd. They stood out, being she walked in a different sort of stride and fashion than other ladies, and he had grown accustomed to picking her out in an area that wasn't too noisy.

"Jellal," she greeted him by name, pressing herself to lean against the railing beside him. He smiled, greeting her back, and she shot him a side glance with a smile. "Are you feeling better now?"

Swallowing his nerves, he nodded. "Yes," he said, turning to face Erza. "I need to discuss something with you in private," he said, the distress becoming clear in his voice.

Erza recognized his expression, because she'd seen the pain and sadness before. Nodding, they withdrew to their suite. The walk was silent, and it causing Jellal to tremble. He would occasionally peek over to see what kind of expression that Erza was making, but it was always the same-serious, but hiding sympathy and empathy. She rarely made the expression, always doing her best to surround herself with things that made her feel happy. Whenever she felt stressed, she would ask Jellal to have the chef prepare strawberry cake, and he would always ask the chef to allow him to apply the strawberries on the top, and whenever she was sad, she went outside and practiced fencing, whether it was good weather or bad.

Watching as Erza moved to open the door, he took the job from her, reminding himself that he was the butler. As she stepped inside the room in silence, he closed the door behind her, then locked it once more. He took a few steps to close the wide gap between Erza and himself, and he dipped his head.

"Miss Scarlet-"

"Erza," she corrected.

Jellal choked. He refused to raise his head, still staring down to his feet. "I'm sorry about last night. I don't want to remind you about the past. I'm hurting you. I think that it would be best if you relieved me of my empolyment to you, so I no longer-"

She interrupted him. "Are you _ordering_ me to do so, Jellal? What makes you think I would fire you, or that you hurt me? Jellal, you idiot, I'm trying to tell you that I wouldn't be able to live without you!"

The words were honest. Erza straightened her posture, and she knew that the recollection of the night her parents died would make it hard for her to say anymore. She could feel the ball in her throat that would make it hard to speak without crying, and she pursed her lips to hold in the emotions. She intended on keeping her promise to not cry.

_The weak are the ones who don't cry,_ she reminded herself,_ but I'm trying to be strong for him._ Her eyes traced the outline of his body and the way that as he bowed, his hair fell forward. She remembered the terrible wrenching feeling she felt in her heart when the men who had kidnapped them pulled and tugged at his hair, one man holding him by an arm. He yelped and cried out, and when they finally took a good hold of his bangs, they yanked his head back, forcing him to look at Erza. She felt her heart throb and drop to her stomach whenever she recalled that moment, even after serveral years.

Jellal tilted his head up in surprise at Erza's last remark about how she couldn't live without him. He could feel the heat spreading to his cheeks. When the fated night had happened, she may not have been able to escape without him, and they both knew it. He paid a price for them both, hoping that they would be able to flee. After Erza was blinded, he couldn't handle the pain of watching her suffer. He screamed out to the men, begging them to allow them to go home. They offered it with a price: emotional suffering. Jabbing a needle into his skin, Jellal cried out as the red mark was engraved below his eye and above his eyebrow. The large men refused to allow him to move, and all he could do was scream as they gripped his hair and marred his skin. Finally, as the mark was complete and his whole face throbbed, the two were thrown out into the cold. They had been found in the street, lying in the snow, by police officers, and they were immediately taken to safety. Eternally, Jellal wondered if Erza's fate would have been had he not been there.

Stepping forward to close even more space, Erza reached out her hand and lifted Jellal to stand up straight. He averted his eyes hesitantly, refusing to allow his heart to flutter. He swallowed, holding his breath.

Erza refused to avert her eyes from Jellal. She knew that he was timid-fearful-and if she lacked the strength for them both, their relationship would crumple. The thought scared her, so she continuously told herself that she would never cry. It wasn't because she thought it made humans weak, or because she didn't want to dwell on the past. She knew crying was a human thing, and it reminded them that they were alive, and yes, she was sad about the events when she was a child, but those weren't her reasons. Her reason was that Jellal _needed_ someone to be strong for him.

"I need you, Jellal," she said, hoping to get him to look at her. She could see him anxiously bite his lip, then swallow whatever feelings he had. In the absence of conversation, Erza pulled away, fixing her bangs in the mirror the cover the terrible blinded eye, and turned back to her comrade. "Everything is okay, and you shouldn't have to fret. I've never been happier in my life.

Deep down, Jellal felt like she was lying. As children, before the _incident_, Erza never stopped smiling and she was _always_ optimistic. The same applied to Jellal. He never let the idea that the Scarlets weren't his real family, or that his mother had died-committed suicide-when he was a young child, or even that his father lacked the ability to take care of him. He found his way-with luck-to the Scarlet household, and they willingly took him in. It was a happy childhood, nonetheless, and almost nothing could compare to it, in Jellal's eyes. Erza was so princess-like, and she pranced around with grace and optimism, even though she was also a bit fearful, but then, Jellal had been there to be her prince. He cared for her and made sure that she was always happy.

"Always" was a big word.

Even more, "always" was a promise left to be broken. Their roles had switched, and now, it was Jellal who needed saving. He wanted to be the hero. The one who made Erza happy and the one who made her safe. Yet, it was her who continued to preach at him to make sure that he felt no self-doubt, or to reassure him and make him feel like he was still a friend. Was he?

_Am I?_ He pondered the thought. She must be lying. There was no way that he was her friend, or that happy with him. There wasn't even a way that she could be happier than she was when she was a child, and everything was okay.

"Please, don't lie to me," he said, breaking the silence. Erza was a bit startled, as she had moved her head closer to the mirror to wipe any marks of tears from under her eyes. Her brown eyes, glossed over from the tears, shifted over to look at him, and she smiled.

She hummed in contemplation. "What can I do? You're my closest friend, like family. The Japanese have a word for this. It's _nakama_, I believe? My heart is with you, and I'll make sure that you and I are happy. Don't think that you're weak," she said, straightening her stance, turning to him once more. "You're alive, and that means you're strong. The dead aren't weak, either, because they fought valiantly. Every human is a fighter, and you aren't an exception, Jellal."

Taking a hesitant step forward, Erza placed her hand over his heart. His body emanated warmth, and Jellal looked down on her kindly. Swallowing his fears once more, he begun to lean in, and Erza let out a nervous sigh. Her body weakly trembled with excitement and fear, and Jellal brushed his finger through her hair, seemingly fixing her bangs out of her face. Before anymore space between them could be closed, the lock on the door opened and Jellal backed up before the person entering could see a thing. He quickly begun to fix Erza's bangs, and his eyes softened.

"You look fine now," he said, his gaze shifting over to the maid, who was entering the room.

Jellal's heart pounded, and he watched as Erza nodded slowly, hesitantly. His heart slammed in his chest, making it hard to breathe. Meanwhile, Erza's body continued to shake with adrenaline, and she excused herself from the room as her cheeks flooded with embarrassment.

**A/N: I hope you guys didn't mind all the angst in this chapter! Please, do leave reviews for me to read, because it makes me feel like I'm doing a good job and if you guys like it! Also, I have another AU chapter fic for Fairy Tail coming up, and it's inspired by a picture by Rusky Boz! I hope to hear from you, and see you next week!**


	15. Be My World

As the maid closed the door behind her, she met Erza's flustered eyes with a smile. She took a single glance to wonder what it was that Jellal had fixed. Her hair was perfect and done nicely, and there wasn't a single sign of a makeup smudge. Erza looked as beautiful as ever. In a quiet tone, the maid apologized for her intrusion, asking if she should have knocked. She also added that she was unaware that Miss Scarlet would be back in the room so early.

Of course, Erza promised that it was alright, and that she hadn't interrupted anything. Even more, she said it was the maid's room, as well, so there was no need to knock or apologize. Taking a look in the mirror, she caught a glimpse of apologizing eyes from Jellal as he turned to organize his belongings on the table behind Erza.

Before she could allow her heart to guide her, she excused herself from the room. Based on the look on Jellal's face, there was nothing more she could do or say. She knew that she would attempt to cheer him up later, because it was only natural for her. However, she excused herself from the room, asking if she could venture the ship alone for the remainder of the day, until the bell for dinner rang. There were no objections, which was typical, but as Erza slipped out the door, she gave Jellal a final, reassuring smile. It was something meant to remind him that she loved him.

* * *

><p>Natsu let out a loud groan, sorting through his clothes for anything <em>decent<em> to wear. Taking a look at the clock on the stand between the two bunks, he reminded himself that he had to hurry. He had put off getting ready the entire day because he thought it would be _easy_. All he needed was a nice shirt, a suitable jacket, and decent pants. Even more, Loke told him that he needed to gel his hair nicely, instead of the usual ruffled look he went with. On top of that, there was manners he needed to practice, which were apparently out of his reach, according to Gray.

The cold heart lounged on his bed, watching the Irishman dig through his suitcases. He opened his mouth to remind him that he needed to call Lucy by her last name, not so casually, and that he needed to escort her around the ship. Gray imagined that he would be a brute and tug her by her wrist the whole night, so a reminder seemed necessary. As he told Natsu what to do, he turned around and groaned, "I _know._"

After several minutes of his helpless digging through clothes and the two suitcases he had brought with him, Natsu was on the verge of ditching. He didn't want to embarrass Lucy, because when he met her on the deck, she was dressed extremely nicely for a sundress to stroll with. Natsu had never given much care to women,-they were humans, so he acted normal around them-but he also had only been around women of his class, so they were filled with open spirit, not a suppressed one-like Lucy.

"You could borrow one of my suits," Gray said, propping himself up on the edge of the bed. Natsu looked over at him, unaware of Gray's wealthy past. "Also, Loke wanted me to ask you if you were coming to the party after your dinner."

"Yeah," he said, something lighting up inside of him. Parties were more of his type, because he lived with a festive bunch in Ireland, and even more, wherever he stayed around the world would have a party or a feast of some sort. "Anyways, I don't need your clothes. I'm going in what I have."

Gray cocked a brow, unsure if what Natsu had would be enough. If he showed up in first class dressed in the clothes he owned, they would think he was either lost or there to mug Lucy. Gray left the room, shrugging, and closed the door behind him. Natsu sorted through his clothes, smiling when he hit the one outfit he promised that he would save for a special occasion-the outfit his father wore before. He quickly changed, dressing himself up into the cleaner, finer clothes, and leaned forward in the mirror, running his hands through his hair to fix it a bit. He gave himself a final smile that reassured himself, and left the safety of his room.

There was no way that he could ask a crewmember to tell him where the hall of the Grand Staircase was, because people of his class weren't allowed there if they were unattended. That meant that the people who made the rules didn't think upperclassmen would socialize with the passengers in the lower classes. Lucy's curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she worked her way to the back of the ship so that she could see what they were like, and she found her way to Natsu. Because of that fateful encounter, he was forced to maneuver unfamiliar halls and stairwells that he had never seen. He occasionally looked to a map to guide him through the decks, and eventually, he found his way to the E Deck.

Lucy was waiting on the platform between the two levels, her back turned to the hallway that Natsu was coming up from. She hadn't taken her eyes off the clock since she had arrived, hoping that Natsu would be in time for the dinner bell. Natsu scaled the stairs, coming up behind her. Nobody seemed to bother to take notice to her, and he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Yo," he cooed, the smile Lucy couldn't get out of her head stretched across his face.

Turning to him, she smiled and dipped her head. She lifted her head to a confused face, being that Natsu had never been exposed to someone like her. Hesitantly, she apologized, and Natsu shook his head. "It's fine, Luce-I mean, Miss-"

"It's okay to call me by my first name," she interjected, commenting on his attempted correction.

Leading Natsu to the dinner hall, she explained that they would have to sit with her parents. There was some remorse in her voice, and Natsu could tell that they would probably disagree with his presence. She also explained that her mother was nice and agreeable, but to expect foul stares and threatening looks from her father. As they entered the dining room, it wasn't too hard to pick out their table, but Natsu was in awe of the diverse meal options, the lights, and the room. In all his time travelling, he'd never set foot in a place with such a fashionable design.

Already, Lucy could see a disapproving look from her father. The "peasant boy" wasn't escorting her, but she could also tell that her father was relieved that he wasn't touching and dirtying Lucy. Turning back to Natsu, his look of awe and appreciation of everything was reassuring. He caught her stating, and gave her another smile. His presence was warming and soothing, and a bit exciting, so she reminded herself that everything would be okay.

As the two approached the table, Natsu decidedly ignored the glares and harsh aura that Lucy's father was giving off. He introduced himself when asked, as Loke told him to do, and repeated their names in his head until he figured that he had them memorized. He was always bad with names, and if his mind hadn't been set on Lucy since Thursday, when he boarded the ship, he swore that her name would have slipped his mind. He'd even called Gray by the name Greg at some point, but fortunately, he didn't notice.

Layla turned to Natsu, lifting the wine bottle that was sitting at the table. She offered him some of the beverage, pouring it in his glass. Jude seemed a bit hesitant to let a lady take care of a waiter's job, but he didn't speak up. Lucy noted that it was odd of him, but she chose not to say anything. She knew that he father was silently judging Natsu, watching each and every one of his movements, or waiting for him to somehow slip up.

"Tell me, Mr. Dragneel, what stories did you tell Lucy? She's been eager to hear more from you," Layla commented, setting the wine bottle back down. She watched Natsu take a hesitant sip of the wine, but he then tipped it higher to down it. He needed to warm his nerves, because it seemed the cold Atlantic air was getting to him.

He seemed to have to recall the stories he mentioned the day before, and he first remembered the story about him travelling through Egypt. "A while ago, I was wandering through Egypt after the ship I was riding made an unplanned stop, and my body wasn't exactly ready to keep riding a boat. I get motion sick, and all. I decided to walk the desert, and I came across a gypsy caravan, and they let me travel with them."

Lucy felt her heart stutter. She sipped her drink, also adding, "Natsu also took the time to tell me about a couple he met in Italy. They really seemed like quite the pair," she said, her mind wandering to far-off places.

Sparking Natsu's interest, he retold the story of Luigi and Magnolia, and eventually, he continued on, noting that he had been invited to a tasting at a winery, and the drink that they had been served on the ship was one of the samples he had. Layla seemed interested, leaning forward to hear more. Jude, on the other hand, remained silent, seeming to find the right moment-and way-to strike at Natsu.

"I'm actually surprised Lucy hasn't travelled more," Natsu commented, his dark eyes shifting over to her. He then moved to ask if he could be handed the wine bottle, hoping to fill his glass once more. Before the bottle reached his hand, Jude finally spoke.

"Where did you get the money to travel? Did you _steal_ it?"

Layla turned to him, seeming to want him to not accuse the boy of theft. The environment around them seemed to grow hostile, nearby tables tuning into the conversation. Lucy choked on her drink, her brown eyes hesitantly shifting to her father. It was best that she didn't object to him, or she'd hear endless complaints from him later in the evening, so she tried to hide the look she was giving him.

On the other hand, Natsu was unphased. He poured his glass, then shook his head. A smile stretched across his lips, a smile that said he wasn't lying. "I've been accused of that, but I'm actually using saved money from my dad's funds. He worked for and stored a bunch of cash so that he and I could travel one day. I also have connections for some of my trips."

"And what else? Do you work your way into desperate girl's hearts so you can mooch off of them?" he accused, his eyes shifting to Lucy. She seemed pulled aback by him accusing her of being desperate, but she remained silent.

"Look, sir, Lucy isn't 'desperate.' I've only known her for a day, but she's got _a lot_ of potential, and if you don't see that, you need a real punch in the face," Natsu snapped, standing up in his chair.

Lucy choked, feeling the tears welling up inside of her. She'd never had someone stand up for her before, because she never had the friends to do so. Feeling the heat of Natsu's temper emanating off of him, Lucy looked to her mother, a pleading look in her eye. Layla looked around, noting the other passengers look at Natsu, and some of the staff coming near them.

A waiter approached them, his hands up in defense. "Sir, you have to-"

"I _**know**_," Natsu snapped, looking at him. "I wasn't planning on staying any longer."

He stormed off, his temper flaring. Lucy stood up, yearning to follow him. Before she could move to do so, her father gripped her wrist, looking up to her. "Don't you _dare_ leave this table," he demanded, his grip seeming to almost snap her wrist. Lucy winced under the pressure. Gathering up enough energy, she yanked her arm out of his grip.

"I'm not desperate, and Natsu is an amazing person! He's not trying to get our wealth, and I'm not just trying to make myself _love_ him because I don't want to marry the person you set me up with! I just want to be _happy_, and Natsu is the kind enough to let me be _me!_" Turning away from her table, she hoped that nothing she said would turn to be a lie. From what she knew, Natsu was a joking boy with lots of ambition, and he embraced people as they came. Even more, he _protected _her.

He could be her world, and that's all that would matter.

Slipping between the mess of tables and watching people, Lucy worked her way out of the restaurant. Tailing the direction that she hoped Natsu had gone in, she spotted him before he turned down the hall. Kicking off the ridiculously tight shoes she was wearing, she picked them up with her hand, chasing after the Irishman down the hall.

Before she could stop herself, Natsu turned around, wondering what the sound chasing him was. Extending his arms to grip Lucy as she braced herself to stop, he took immediate note of the tears in her eyes. He had never been one to comfort, because he was too rough and brawny, so he devised a plan in his head.

At the table, he didn't like the sight of Lucy beginning to cry, nor did he like the idea of her father attacking her in such a rude, verbal way. When the two were on the deck together, he liked the excitement in her eyes as he told his stories, and he wanted to share the experiences with her. He hoped that Lucy could one day see the world, and it would mean the world to him if he could be by her side.

He wanted nothing more than to be Lucy's escape.

"Take me away from here," she breathed, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: My apologies for being a day late, everyone! I'm finally back into school after my long winter break, so I've been trying to get my head back in the game. However, I'm trying to prevent late postings from happening again, so I'll try to write ahead of time, so if I'm ever too busy to write, I'll still have something to post!**

**On the other hand, I've been asked to tell you all about my new chapter fic AU coming out soon, which is still in the early stages of planning. I've already spilled the beans about this to a few users, but my original idea from last week has been scrapped, or it's been put on hold. I **_**do**_** have a new AU in planning, though, and it's going to be a lovely little Pompeii one, ending with the destruction of the city. I'm still debating whether or not to make it like this one, where I have my four big pairings (Jerza, Nalu, Gajevy, and Gruvia) or to just leave it at Jerza, but I think I'll do all four! Leave me your thoughts on that?**

**Also, shoutout to my lovely new friend, Mira (27kirune12)~ You really are a sweetheart! Thanks to her, I have a new Jerza oneshot coming out, because she's my new Jerza buddy! It's also inspired by a picture I posted on my tumblr, so you can see it on my profile (emichama) or under the tag ****#outlinemi****! I'm really excited about this drawing I did because I got the amazing artist ****blanania**** to notice it! I hope that you look forward to my next oneshot coming out, dedicated to Mira! C:**

**Once again, please do leave me a review to read! It really makes me feel like I'm doing a good job, and they make me really happy! They're a writer's form of pay, and I love it when you guys let me know that you like/love my stuff! I hope that this chapter wasn't too short, because I wrote it in an hour and a half, but I promise you guys will like the next two or three that are coming up!**

**Also, please, do check out **_**To The Flame**_** by my absolute favorite fanfic writer on this site, AbsentAngel, because this is the most **_**amazing**_** Nalu vampire AU out there, and I'm in love with it!**

**I hope to hear from you all, and see you next week!**


	16. Forlorn Hope

There was nothing more promising than a drink to drown his regret.

Never before had Gray been washed over by his emotions, because he never let them show. Even more, they were there because of a girl he had just met on the ship. He couldn't recall the last time that he even considered the need to apologize to someone for what he said, because that was the kind of person he was. He didn't like to apologize, do what he was told to do, or even be _nice_, even if the kindness was fake or for personal gain.

Even when he was the wealthy son of the Fullbuster family, he didn't betray his true personality. He was the son that remained stern and quiet, very rarely saying a thing. It might have been because his father and mother did all the talking,-they were the charismatic type of people-or even because he never had anything to say. It was true that he was snappy, had a heart that was frosted over, and a temper that could melt the icebergs on the Atlantic, but he knew when not to speak. Even more, it was actually unusual that he had such an outburst towards Juvia.

Towards men with the same amount of fight as himself, he would easily show the more rowdy part of himself. His temper couldn't be holstered forever, but when his family was living in the mansion and every wish at their command, he took out his anger, hostility, and remorse in his private combat classes, where he could punch away every last sign of emotion.

On top of his typical level-headedness and private or friendly sessions of releasing anger, he wasn't considered a gentleman. He wasn't all too social or friendly, nor was he easy to get close to. At parties and festivities, he didn't socialize too much and hung around the people he was familiar with. He didn't play the role of a perfect suitor. Even Juvia, whose parents had arranged her to marry him, had probably chosen Gray as a last resort.

Still, he managed to maintain his pride, and his fire didn't only fuel his temper. He was the only remaining person in the Fullbuster line with ambition, and he wasn't going to let anything get in the way of it. Simply and alone,-until Loke came along-he was going to work his way back up to the top.

Despite all of this, he knew that something inside of him was _broken._

For the evening, he was planning on skipping out on the party, but when he hadn't bothered to get ready after Natsu had left the room, Loke was growing suspicious. The ginger had turned to him, dropping his comb back onto the nightstand, and plucked the jacket off of the place it was hanging from on the bunk. It plopped down onto his chest, pulling Gray from his heavy daydreaming session, and he spat out an irritated, "What?"

Loke didn't hesitate to reply, and he immediately demanded that Gray get dressed. Glancing to the clock, the ginger slipped his glasses on and reminded Gray that the party started around eight. Natsu had slipped from the room anytime around six, after Gray had left to go fetch himself something to drink from the dining hall, which signaled that after he had returned to the room, he had done nothing for more than an hour. Loke's brow twitched in displeasure as he imagined the scenario in his head, waiting for Gray's grumbled reply.

More than a few moments passed. Standing in the same spot, Loke peered down at the unmoving figure on the bed, who had his arm placed over his eyes. Reaching to grab the newspaper that Natsu had left on his bed from Ireland, Loke rolled it up, nudging Gray.

"Hey," he said, growing more and more impatient.

Mumbling, Gray moved his arm to peek at his comrade. Flinching, Loke swung the rolled paper down, slapping his friend across the nose. Gray's nose crinkled and he thinned his eyes at Loke in disdain, and he immediately propped himself up. As Loke tossed the newsletter back to its original place, Gray kicked at Loke's bend on his leg, hoping to knock him over.

Swinging around, he thinned his eyes at Gray. _Like a cat_, the cold heart figured. Groaning as Loke turned back to the mirror with a hefty order that they would both be attending the event, he pulled his coat on. Reaching for his boots, he laced them up and stood, standing behind his friend as he shook his hair through and fixed it a bit. There was no sense in attempting to get dolled up, because he was only going for a few drinks before he would return to his room for an early night.

"We have to meet a friend," Loke said, turning around to fix the sloppily done bowtie on Gray's shirt. His navy blue eyes shifted around as Loke fixed the bow, and he continued. "We have to meet her at her room."

"You're not going to have sex with her later, are you?"

Standing back, Loke puffed his cheeks. "She already shot me down before I could do anything."

"You're going to let that stop you from flirting?"

"Hey," he groaned, upset by the amount of distrust his friend had in him. "Sometimes, it's _nice_ to have _friends_ that are of superior species," he said, his mind trailing off to more romantic and erotic places.

Eventually, the two left the domain of their room. As they turned down the maze of hallways and the occasional stairwell, Loke offered up the majority of conversation. He wanted to know what Lucy was like, or even, who she was, and how Natsu had met her. He also wanted to know how their "date" was going, as he called it. Despite his rambling and talking about how Natsu was lucky to have found a wealthy girl, Gray only shot in the occasional comment, such as how he thought Lucy was insane to want to invite Natsu to eat, because his eating pattern was far beyond disgusting, and what even caused her to think he was suitable company.

Approaching the door number that Loke recalled from the night before, and apparently sometime earlier in the day, he rapped on it, only waiting a few seconds before it was opened. The girl who opened it looked vaguely familiar to Gray, but her loose brown curls and typical brown eyes wouldn't make her stand out too much in a crowd.

"Holy. Shit," she made out, dropping the brush that she was holding. Her eyes were directly on Gray, and something in Loke stirred that made him hope that she wasn't swearing because Gray was attractive. Even in Paris, multiple men had dropped whatever they were doing… to flirt with him. "You're Gray Fullbuster, right?" Gray gave a slow, hesitant nod to her. "What the hell are you doing in third class? With _this_ dolt?" she said, pointing at Loke.

He puffed his cheeks at her, and she gave him a slight chuckle. Cana shifted her gaze back over to Gray, who still seemed unmoved my her words.

"I recognize you because I used to be a waitress for a restaurant that you used to come into a lot," she gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder. "I won't bring up your past," she chuckled aloud, kicking her brush back into the room so it skidded across the floor.

She slipped past the two boys, signaling for them to tail her. She occasionally turned her head back to them to ask for directions or to see if Gray had stopped scowling. She was always half-disappointed.

The hall where the party was being hosted was already flooded. The lighting was dim and glowed and pale orange-yellow, and free mugs of beer were going around. Men snorted and topped the mugs, drinking for competitions and for self-enjoyment. Even more, Gray and his two comrades noted that even women were joining in on the fun and games. He should have figured, though, because with the way that Cana was eyeing the kegs of beer, she was definitely a girl who knew how to hold her liquor.

"So, boys, let's find a seat," she said, slipping her arms between theirs and begun guiding them to an open table. She turned to Loke, asking, "Hey, what happened to that other friend that you were talking to me about?"

"Oh, Natsu? He's on some date with a first class lady," he said, waving his hand at her, as though he were swatting away his jealous thoughts. "He said he would join us later."

Cana nodded, looking around. With a single wave and a moment of waiting, a man set an excess amount of beer and mugs on their table. Cana took the glass in her hand, looking to both boys so that they would lift their first one, and topped it off. She wasn't going to waste the night, and free liquor was the first thing she was going to take in as much as she could.

Downing mug after mug, she could see the blood and heat rushing to both boys' faces. She gave a slight chuckle to herself. Eventually, after several rounds and refills, Gray opened his mouth.

"Tell me if I messed up," and before Cana and Loke could ask what he meant, Gray begun to ramble. His cheeks were bright red from the alcohol warming his body, and his eyes were set directly on the mug of beer that was slowly emptying as he sipped more. He begun to eagerly confess his situation with Juvia that morning. He told the two, unconscious of the words spilling out of his mouth, that he felt terrible when he made her cry, because he snapped at her about thoughts that were arising in his head. He was scared of getting close to her, and he lashed out at the poor, innocent girl that wanted nothing more than to help him.

Finishing his glass, he took a new one and continued. He felt the need to imply that Juvia was actually really kind, and something about her emanated welcoming warmth, but he managed to keep the latter to himself. He still knew that he didn't want to confess something so foolish, so he kept his mouth shut beyond saying that Juvia was _kind._

"And you're a dick," Cana said, giving Gray a nudge. "You need to get your ass up and apologize to her."

Over the past several drinks, Loke had taken noticed that she was beginning to lose all restraint of her more brash comments. She was tossing more cuss words into her comments, and at some point, she showed a derogatory gesture to a man who whistled at her. She took another good, long sip at her drink and said, "You're too rough, Gray."

"I _know_, okay?" he snapped, his cheeks red with drunk warmth. He still hadn't mentioned that the two had been engaged, and he was unsure if it was beneficial to him. He figured that Cana was wondering how the two had even encountered, or why he was even worried about getting close to her. She probably figured that Gray was anti-women or something drastic, so he begun to spill more information after finishing another mug.

He begun with the fact that she was arranged to marry him. Cana felt the need to add in the comment that fate was in her favor when the wedding was called off. Gray could only give her a glare, and then continued to say that she had apparently spotted him and felt the need to introduce herself to him. Going into more detail, he brought up their dinner and how he actually enjoyed it, and that she was easy to talk to. Even more, he mentioned the glimmer in her eye whenever he even dared to show Juvia a smile.

"And here I am, eating potatoes for dinner every night," Loke commented, "while my roommates are getting with these first class girls."

Cana turned the conversation into a lighter one, adding advice in for Gray. She knew what kind of person he was. Doubtful and reliant on himself. She coached him, making sure that he knew what to do if he planned on apologizing to her. After Loke stood up to excuse himself to the restroom, Cana told Gray in private that she knew he just wanted to protect Juvia from the wrath of his self-destruction.

"Don't hold yourself back, Gray. I'm sure Juvia is willing to stand by you, no matter what. People like that are hard to find in this world," she said, giving him the first soft smile since she had met him earlier in the night. "You messed up, sure, but it's never too late to fix your mistake. If she's as kind as you make her seem, she'll be waiting for you with open arms."

"Thanks, Cana," he murmured, averting his eyes.

Inside, he felt his heart stir. He wasn't sure if he wanted to let Juvia close to his heart, but Cana's words made him feel like he wouldn't ever let anyone close to him if he didn't try it with Juvia. For the first time, he felt calm. Something about the thought of Juvia allowed his mind to settle for the first time in several years.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope this chapter was good enough and made sense! I'm in a bit of an exhausted rush, and the beginning half with all the angst was from a while ago, so it was less rushed. Even more, I'm incredibly stressed out, and it's a miracle I'm managing to get this out on the right week. I'm sorry if the second half was crap! Anyways, the next chapter is dedicated to a bit of Gajevy and lots of Jerza! After that, I have another Nalu chapter, so I hope you look forward to all of that!**

**Anyways, I'm actually a bit proud of Gray's character development in here! The idea of him drunkenly confessing things about Juvia was a nice thought in my head, but I really had to hold back. I hope he's still in character though… Actually, I hope all of the characters seem like themselves. Let me know if they're not, please!**

**So, about that AU I was telling you about in the last chapter? It's still in the early planning phases because I haven't found much time to write about it, but Mira (27kirune12) and I are planning this cute Jerza chapter fic that I hope you'll all check out when it comes out! It's going to be set in the FT world, but it's going to be altered and a bit different~ You'll see! If you want to know more, send me a message! I might be willing to share some more details~ (I also have this Fem-dom Jerza BDSM oneshot coming out soon so look forward to that!)**

**Please leave me a review! It means the world to me! Thank-you and I hope that you look forward to next week's chapter!**


	17. Instinct

The quiet sound of the waves colliding with the boat was lulling him into a nightmare. He knew it. He could feel it in his bones, and every fiber of his being. For some reason, Jellal was still shaking from his earlier encounter with Erza, and he knew he didn't think of it as a regret anymore, but something about it was killing him inside. Was he really daring to change everything he knew so he could be _happy_?

What if it didn't make Erza happy?

Quietly, he sighed, hoping not to disturb anyone else in the cabin. The room that Erza had chosen enabled her employees to enjoy the luxuries as well, which seemed to make her happy. However, Jellal found himself wishing he could pace away his frustrations in his own room. Despite the fact he had already paced the whole morning away, the urge was arising again. _Am I supposed to apologize to her? What am I supposed to do? Is Erza holding a grudge against me? Did I really mess up again?  
><em> Before his thoughts could pester him anymore, sleep was pulling on him. He'd worn himself out, and sleep seemed to be the only welcoming thing for him. A few short hours of completely forgetting his problems seemed like the only thing left for him, so he closed his eyes, nestling himself into a comfortable position in his bed. Away from him, he heard a blissful sigh from Erza as she turned in her sleep, bringing some peace to Jellal.

Within moments, the unsteady and panicked pace of his heart slowed into a slow, rhythmic beat. His breathing slowed, and everything around him faded into a state of nihility.

A loud crash startled him.

Sitting up immediately, he braced himself to protect Erza at all cost. However, he found himself staring at walls that were not the ones of his room, nor was he resting in the comfort of a first class bed. Struggling to his feet, he swayed with the sudden change of balance. Unsure of what was happening, Jellal groggily made his way to the door, sparing a glance in the mirror.

His heart stopped. The red tattoo wasn't embedded into his skin, and a face of youth peered back at him. Taking quick and frantic steps to the mirror, he placed his hand to the glass, unable to tell if he was really looking at himself. There was a child looking at him, one that was young, innocent, pure. It was his face, of course, and a shrill scream startled him as he continued to look into the glass.

Pulling away from the mirror, he begun to feel the loss of control. His body, moving on its own, was beginning to pull him into a memory, not a dream. Silently, he moved towards the door, his heart pounding in his chest. The feeling was too real-too _familiar_. Slowly, he turned the knob, opening the wooden door enough to peek into the hallway unnoticed. A weak drumming sound rang in the hallway, and his eyes immediately took in the sight of scarlet hair.

Erza raced past his door. "_Mother_!?" she shouted, a plush doll still in her arm. Despite the fact that she was already fourteen, she still preferred to keep a doll close. She always reminded Jellal that they made her feel safe. Before Jellal could stop her, she was a distance down the hallway, continuously calling for Madame Scarlet.

Throwing the doorway open, Jellal slipped into the dimly lit hallway, hoping to stop her before she ran into trouble. Her name slipped from his lips, calling out to her. She stopped running for a moment, and she turned to him, her hair tied into a braid at her back. She dropped the doll, a look of worry on her face, the feeling weighing her down and taking over her instincts. She turned back in the direction of her parents' room, breaking into a sprint.

"Mom, Dad!?"

There was a single gunshot that caused Jellal and Erza to stop where they stood. It echoed through the hallways, impossible to indicate a source. The door at the end of the hallway opened, slowly and surely. Erza took a hesitant step back, reaching a hand to her side to grip a doorknob. Her eyes never left the doorway, which opened to pitch blackness. Before her hand found the cool touch of the doorknob, it opened.

"Erza!" Jellal shouted, startled by an arm looping around him, lifting him from the ground.

A single hand extended out from the darkness near Erza, gripping her hair by the braid. She shouted out in pain, then yanked into the darkness. She was forcefully held in the man's arm, who stepped out from the darkness. His eyes thinned in pleasure as he turned to see Jellal struggling in his comrade's arms. He fought the larger body, overpowering him. None of his training with Erza had prepared them for a real situation. He met Erza's eyes as she flinched as the man squeezed her tighter.

At the end of the hallway, two men as broad as the ones holding Erza and Jellal came out, tugging both of the Scarlets by their clothes. Erza's father was bleeding out from his shoulder, which added to the pain as he was kicked over to the ground. One of the men, laughing under his breath, looped his arm around Erza's mother, tightening his grip around her neck by the second. She struggled for air, too much in pain to call out to her husband as he writhed on the ground.

Both children screamed out to them, stifled by thick hands covering their mouths. Jellal struggled to swallow his fear, finding the energy to open his mouth and clamp down. Biting the brute's hand with as much force as a small fifteen-year-old boy had to offer, the man dropped him in pain. Thrusting a strong kick into Jellal's side, he rolled across the floor, gasping for air.

"Please, don't hurt…" Erza's mother began to plead, "…Don't hurt the… children…"

The man squeezed her mother's throat tighter. Erza began to cry out, unable to restrain the tears that were falling from her eyes. The man who had kicked Erza's father to the ground pulled out the gun he had shot the victim's shoulder with once more. Aiming it at his head, he eyed out Erza's mother. "Do everyone a favor and hand over the money we asked for," he demanded.

"You didn't ask," Erza's father groaned, moving himself enough to look at his daughter and the boy they had taken in.

Even from the moment that a stranger had wandered up the cobblestone path of the Scarlet manor, their lives had changed. The man, seemingly weak and frail, tugged a ragged child by the arm, no bigger than their little daughter. The man explained that the boy's real mother had killed herself, and his blood father had died long before, then continued to say he didn't have the money or the will to care for a child. Erza's father, hesitant, turned to his wife and daughter, who had been standing at the top of the staircase. Erza, only five, looked hopeful and accepting, a pleading look in her eyes. The earl of the Scarlet house turned to his wife for a moment, and she nodded, a soft smile on her face. He turned back to the sallow man, and nodded.

"If you're asking for us to take in the boy, we'll do so," he said. Belittling himself, he crouched down in front of the boy, placing his hand on his head. "What's your name?"

"Jellal," he muttered, his voice hesitant, but it was trusting.

The Scarlet earl smiled. "You'll be my daughter's companion, alright? Don't worry, _Jellal_, we'll treat you like a son."

It was a promise that had been kept. He and his wife cared for Jellal just as much as they cared for Erza. Even she, the little daughter, acted as though they had been lifelong friends. She smiled, laughed, and played around him. For the years, nearly ten, that he had been in the Scarlet household, he had never seen the members of the Scarlet house falter to be heroes, saviors, kind, and strong. Even then, threatened with a gun, he wasn't sure if it was weakness on their faces.

"Let me rephrase myself: Give me the money or I'll _kill _you all."

Silence fell over them all. Jellal turned onto his side, hoping and praying they would do something. The man who had become his father said something, almost too hard to hear because he was so quiet. "I wouldn't leave my children with _nothing_," and he turned his head up enough to give his children a final smile.

Oh, God, do something, Jellal thought frantically. The trigger was pulled, and his final smile left his lips almost immediately. Erza screamed out, beginning to struggle much more than she had before. She kicked and punched, screaming. In a moment, however, as she saw the agony in her mother's eyes, she stopped and immediately fell silent. Jellal could feel the tears falling down his face, which were beginning to blur his vision.

Within seconds, no mercy was shown as the two men at the opposite end of the hall tossed Erza's mother to the floor. She screamed out, her eyes shut in fear. She didn't dare spare a glance at the heartbroken children, shouting she was sorry as the gun was fired once more. By then, Erza's voice was hoarse and she had lost all fight. She silently sobbed, falling limp in her captor's arms. She was trembling, crying. It was hard to handle.

In the dim lighting, Jellal spotted a knife one of the men had dropped. Hoping to not draw notice to himself, he extended his hand out, reaching for the blade. As his shaking fingers wrapped around it, he took notice to Erza as she eyed him, a look of doubt staining her face. As the man who had dropped him stepped past Jellal, he took slow steps towards the two fallen Scarlets. In that moment, instinct, and everything else he learned in combat class, set Jellal's body into motion.

Pouncing to his feet, he sliced the blade at the man who was holding Erza. Digging it into his skin, Jellal was pleasured to feel the knife meet skin. The man shouted in disdain, dropping Erza to the floor. Quickly, he turned to Jellal and swatted his hand away, but the boy gripped the knife and yanked it out. Ducking from the wide swing the man was taking, he avoided a punch, tripping him. The men down the hallway immediately fired their guns down the hallway. One of the bullets grazed by, but the second collided with Jellal's shoulder.

Screaming out in agony, the blade fell from his fingers. Erza yelped in fear, then quickly reached for the blade her comrade had dropped. Gathering the info she had learned about throwing knives, Erza flicked her wrist and tossed the blade at the men down the hallway. As it made contact, another gunshot noise sounded, the bullet grinding into the floorboards near Erza's feet.

"Jellal, run!" she shouted, but as she turned to him, he was writhing in pain. It seemed as though his body refused to move other then his spasms, of which he was attempting to manage the pain of his gunshot wound with. Erza shrunk down as she was cornered against the wall, the man who Jellal had stabbed peering down on her. With a hefty kick into the side from him, she lost her breath… and her will to fight.

Strong hands picked them both up, one man carrying each of them. Jellal, groaning from his wound, was slung over the shoulder of the shooter of Erza's parents, while the man who had been stabbed in the arm carried Erza. Jellal, lost in a daze, struggled to think straight, unsure why the men were carrying them away. He didn't want to die, but what use were they to them?

"You're going to tell us where your family has the money hidden, got it?" one of the men said, his shoulder nudging Jellal. He turned his head to see that the speaker was walking beside him, and he struggled to swallow. He was lightheaded, struggling for air, and in pain. He couldn't bring himself to speak.

"We wouldn't know where the money is," Erza said groggily. She was out of sight, and Jellal couldn't see her throught the thick, hulking body of the man carrying her.

"That's a shame," he said. "I guess we'll just have to jog your memory."

Forced into a vehicle, Jellal's heart begun to race.

The short car ride seemed to drag on forever. The men didn't appear to be wealthy, so Jellal imagined they stole their money from people, as they had tried on the Scarlets. Eventually, however, the machine came to a slow stop, pulling into the yard of a building. In the darkness and with the lack of lights, it was impossible to tell whether the building was a mansion or a warehouse. Disoriented as Jellal was hauled out of the vehicle, he eagerly peered around, hoping to be near civilization. Something inside his heart lurched when he realized that no one would come to save him and Erza, nor were there any buildings around.

Erza and Jellal were frantically rushed into the building, and as they climbed the staircase, with the men bordering them as they walked, Erza's hand slipped into Jellal's. He dared to sneak her a glance, and she had done the same to him. They both had the same look in their eyes, which was one of anxiety and anticipation.

"I-if you k-keep us here… we won't be able to t-tell you where the money is," Jellal stammered, unsure if it was from the cold nipping at his skin or if it was from the fear in his mind. His grip around Erza's hand tightened as no one answered him, and he was beginning to get the idea that the men had their mind set more on torturing them than getting ahold of their money.

As the doors opened in front of them, they were led up the staircase. The wood creaked under their weight, the steps moaning out in the silence. As they reached the top of the staircase, pain shot through Jellal's neck, and he collapsed from a blow to his head.

* * *

><p>Waking up in a thicker darkness than he had been in before he was unconscious, his mind was racing. Frantically, his eyes searched the darkness. Moving his arms, he found that they were bound behind his back and chained to a wall. Fighting the force, he tried to pull away from the wall, the chains clinking as they slammed against each other, hit the floor, and tightened as he pulled. Giving up within seconds, he resorted to staring forward into the black.<p>

Through the darkness, Jellal perked up when the door opened, candlelight pouring into the room. It casted light onto his face, which was smudged with blood, sweat, and swelling bruises. The man entering the room smiled at the sight of the boy, yanking Erza in by her hair. As he pulled, the braid she had done up with her mother before bed fell loose, her hair tumbling down her back and framing her shoulders. Had it been another situation, Jellal would have dared to compliment Erza, saying he liked it when her hair was down.

Stumbling into the room, Erza immediately let her eyes take in Jellal. She smiled a bit, relieved that at least he was still alive. Her wrists were shackled together in front of her, which had a chain that hung loosely to the ground. The man didn't hesitate to pick it up, yanking it above Erza's head so that she was raising her arms to put up with the man's insistence on pulling the chain.

"So, since you're both useless, we don't need to keep you alive," the man said. "However, if we torture you enough, you might squeal about where the money is." There was a look in his eye that signaled there was more to what he was saying, and from the sinister glare, Jellal knew the men planned to kill Erza and Jellal once they slipped up.

Behind him, three more silhouettes came into the room. Two flanked Erza, lifting her from the ground by slipping their arms under the bend of her legs. She struggled for a moment, but inside, she could feel a drug stirring in her blood, making it hard to move. The man who had been holding the chain supported her up my yanking harder, most of her support in her arms. Erza strained in pain, then the third person who had entered the room supported her back, making sure that Erza was cradled by the three people.

The man let go of her chains, allowing her arms to fall back to her body. Jellal was frantic, unsure what they were doing. Pulling away from the wall, he met eyes with a glare. The man bit his lip, as though he was thinking, and stepped out of the room for a moment. Returning with a cloth, he gagged Jellal, whispering in his ear that it was enough to temporarily keep him quiet.

"I'd cover your eyes, too, but I want you to observe," he said, teasing the young boy. Standing up to his feet, the man moved back to Erza.

From his lower angle, Jellal couldn't see what was happening, but as the man's hands extended to Erza's face, her shrill scream was enough to know that they were harming her. Jellal attempted to scream out, wanting them to stop. He wasn't entirely sure what the man was doing, unsure why Erza was screaming, and what the cause of her pain was, but it lit a fire inside of Jellal.

A fire of **rage**.

Yanking on the chains, he attempted to pull up to his feet, hoping that he could break the binds somehow. Struggling to his feet, he continued to pull, muffled cries of, "**Stop**!" and "You're going too far!" slipping out of his mouth and past the gag. The man who was torturing Erza stopped, turning to the boy pulling on the wall. Erza, still suffering from pain, stopped screaming, but let out whimpers of agony.

"Think of this all as a way to show you what it's like to actually work for your wealth," the man said, shrugging. "An eye for an eye, right?" There was a wink.

The three people dropped Erza, refusing to set her down nicely. She fell to the floor, blood streaming from her right eye. It was still there, but blinded. She curled up and continued to whimper and shiver in pain, but one of the men reached down and yanked her to her feet.

"Stop!" Jellal demanded, the cloth falling past his lips, resting on his collarbone and shoulders. "Stop hurting her already… I'm still here, so she doesn't deserve everything."

"He wants to share?" one of the men asked, chuckling.

Jellal looked up, his eyes flicking from one man to another. "Do whatever you want to me, and we'll let you all walk away if you let us do the same."

"You want us to let you two leave in exchange of you not letting the police know what we look like? We could just kill you."

Shaking his head, Jellal frowned. "We're just kids," he said, a sense of maturity to his voice. "We have lives to live. If we ever find the stash of money you want, we'll hand it over, but all we're asking for is for you to let us leave. If you won't let us both leave, at least let Erza. I made a promise to keep her safe." She gasped, but she was too broken to say anything.

Within seconds, there was no reply, but he was being unchained. Jellal was yanked to his feet, pulled across the room, then forced back onto his knees. Two men, restraining his arms to the side, held him down. The third, crouching behind Jellal, yanked him by his hair, pulling his head back to look up to the ceiling. He had no idea about what was happening, but he knew that he had just sold his luck, hoping to have his and Erza's lives, but her life meant more to him.

"You're sworn to find that money, or I'll find you both. Got it, boy? I'll even give you a reminder, something to haunt you both everyday."

Pulling a needle from a nearby satchel, other objects were also removed from the bag. Lacking any professionalism or sanitation, the man dug the inked needle into Jellal's skin. The little boy tensed up under him, straining against the little pricks. He had to sustain the agony, because Erza had been through worse. For a long duration, he continued to tense up as the needle came into contact with his skin, marking it.

When the procedure was over, Jellal was yanked to his feet and pulled to a mirror, forced to look at the wretched mark. "Don't forget," was muttered into his ear, and the same sensation of pain was shot through him, allowing him to wake up wrapped in a bundle of blankets with the bustle of policemen around him and Erza.

He didn't squeal, or give away their appearances, but the men were found. Arrested, Erza and Jellal were allowed to return home, having the young heiress take over the Scarlet home. However, the mark still tainted his skin, and the horrible guilt that weighed down his shoulders that he didn't rescue Erza soon enough.

Shooting upright in his bed, Jellal peered around. The walls of the cabin were familiar, the same as when he had fallen asleep. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, where he wiped it. Slipping a peek to see the sun rising, he realized his dream had managed to last the duration of the night. In the suite, however, no one else had stirred yet. Gathering himself and his wrecked nerves together, he prepared himself for another day.

* * *

><p>The moonlight seeped in through the windows, Levy struggling to keep her eyes off of Gajeel. She cocked an eyebrow, watching him enjoy plate after plate of the Titanic's cuisine. He still hadn't bothered leaving her side throughout the day, and he even invited himself to sit with her at dinner. She didn't mind it, of course, because she liked his company-for some odd reason. He made her feel less alone in the midst of complete strangers and in the middle of the Atlantic, and he was also easy company for her.<p>

They had been at the dinner table since sunset, right around the time that the bell calling for supper had rung. Then, the two had still been inside of the lounge, dancing, but in intervals. They occasionally sat down and talked for a bit, conversation flowing off their tongues. It felt as thought he two had known each other for eternity, even though it had just been two days before that they had met, and even in the early morning when it seemed as though they held a grudge against one another.

Gajeel asked questions, making it seem as though he had stored them all away inside of his brain. Many of them pertained to the story Levy's father had written, others involving why she was traveling and why she was bothering to sail across the ocean to get her hands on a book. When he asked all of his questions, Levy took her turn at asking him what his life was like, and what it was like to travel and play music. Eventually, she drifted off into telling him about a book she had read that was about a traveling music man, but he never interrupted, despite his habit to.

When the dinner bell had rung, Gajeel immediately stopped dancing, fixed his suit, and ordered that they go to eat. Levy hesitated, being that the two hadn't changed into dinner attire, but he shrugged. "We're second class, so there's no need to impress," he huffed, pulling her through the doorway and down the hall. He seemed to have the map of the ship memorized to most extent, despite the fact that he didn't know about the little lounge with the phonograph.

The bell chimed a few more times, and Levy's thoughts begun to wander to Lucy. Her comrade had been excited about having dinner with the third class boy, Natsu, but after their dinner together the night before, she'd received a note from her in the morning. It said that Lucy was forced to tell her parents about him, being that they demanded to join her for dinner that night. However, Lucy refused to cancel on the boy, signs of her eagerness to spend time with him showing rather vividly.

Throughout their dinner, Gajeel didn't make his own conversation. Levy, eventually unable to contain her curiosity, asked about his associations with gangs in America. He looked up from his bite of food and his other hand seemed to tighten around the wine glass. He let out a grunt, and snapped, "What's it to you?"

"Well, I've overhead some gossip about you, and I wanted to know if it was true…" She took her glass in her hand, taking a sip at the mediocre wine. It was nothing in comparison to what she had sampled the night before with Lucy, but she was sure it was better than the cheap booze going around in third class. She wondered if Natsu was enjoying his dinner and experience in first class.

"And if it is?" he asked, his face tense with curiosity. He took a bite, chewing the food. Levy seemed hesitant, her eyes averted from him, but they snapped back to meet his directly.

"I hold no grudge against you, nor am I scared of you, Mr. Redfox," she said, setting her glass down. "To me, you're just a dorky musician who's oddly uncoordinated and bad at dancing," she said, wagging her finger at him. A devious smirk was plastered on her face, as she was bringing up the fact that he had stepped on her toes several times during their dancing sessions.

He scowled. "Look, pint-size, I play music, and I _don't_ dance to-Why aren't I scary!?"

Levy giggled to herself, shaking her head. "You were threatening at first, but now, you're just a big chunk of geek," she said, struggling to talk through her laughter.

Gajeel let out a huff, downing his wine. "Whatever, pipsqueak. You're not very scary, either."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh, boy, this chapter ended up being so much later than I had hoped! I'm so sorry, everyone, but the stress has been ganging up on me and I've been working on my Pompeii AU and my Fairy Tail Next Generation project for the past week, plus all of these stupid school projects, and I guess I forgot to work on this week's chapter! Once again, I'm so sorry!**

**Anyhow, I hope that you all enjoyed this week's chapter, and the extra length, which is about seven pages, is my apology for being so late! I've been waiting to go into Jellal and Erza's past for quite some time now, being that it was all just hinted at in subtle comments, so here it is! I hope the transitions were okay? Also, the Gajevy moment in the end was just to lighten to mood because I think we can all agree (well, those of you who are caught up in the manga) that our hearts need a break, now don't they?**

**Look forward to lots of Natsu and Lucy development in the next chapter-both as individual people as well as their relationship together! There will be a bit of back story for Natsu in the next chapter, but it won't be as long and stretched out as this one. I can't garuntee that the next chapter will be out on time, or even next week at all, because I do need some personal and relaxation time, as well as time to work on my other projects and oneshots, because I still haven't written that consensual BDSM fanfic, so sorry!**

**I **_**will**_** try to get it out to you guys, because I love you all and I'm so happy that you guys have stuck with me through all of this and are still reading this fanfic! This story has become an important thing to me, because I'm really sticking through this one, as well as innovating something amazing, I think~ I really want to thank you all for this amazing time we've spent together, and I hope you'll stick with me for a much longer time! For those of you who only recently (or just) joined me on this adventure, welcome!**

**Now, hopefully, I'll see you all next week or the week after, and I hope to hear from you all!**


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